(Refrão: Future) Talking 'bout you popping tags, nigga you ain't bought shit Talking bout a hunned bottles, nigga you ain't popped shit All you talk nana clips, nigga you ain't shot shit Spending money on these hoes, nigga you ain't fuck shit
(Verso 1: Drake) Took niggas out the hood like I'm from there So you know it's all good when I come there I hear you talk about your city like you run that And I brought my tour to your city, you my son there nigga But I had to come through for the remix On my haven't done a verse in 8 weeks shit And if a nigga say my name, he the hot shit But if I say the nigga name, he still hot shit Fucked up, lucky I don't feed into the gossip Niggas act like they don't know, but they should know Yeah, I just think it's funny how they dangling the bait But I'm the one that's killing niggas on the hooks though And niggas ain't got a grill, still ice grill hating I know y'all already know Mike Will Made It Just looking at the numbers, nigga, I feel amazing I call Michael Jordan up and Mike will make it I'm the young rap nigga with the mega deal You need to come to OVO for a better deal Just know a million ain't shit once you get a mill And niggas say it's all good, that's how you better feel Nigga nah, fuck that, this year I'm talking big stuff Rolling through the city like a young nigga bricked up Fuck niggas gon' be fuck niggas That's why we never give a fuck when a fuck nigga switched up
(Refrão: Future) Talking 'bout you popping tags, nigga you ain't bought shit Talking bout a hunned bottles, nigga you ain't popped shit All you talk nana clips, nigga you ain't shot shit Spending money on these hoes, nigga you ain't fuck shit
(Verso 2: Juicy J) If money talk then your pockets ain't saying shit I'm in the bathroom getting head from your bitch And I ain't paying her shit You want beef? You don't know who you playing with I tell my pilot to land the jet I'm hopping off, get 'em, we popping off Give a click and you niggas dead where you standing at I'm just a trippy nigga smoking on cabbage Your money funny like Jim Carrey I got bitches that's super bad like Halle And we still keeping that white like Barry I'm a rich nigga, still keep a pistol with me Nigga you ain't fuckin' with a picture of me I got all this cake and shooters with me Just in case you pussy niggas try to get you a piece What it is my nigga, what is hidden for Where the car you were whippin in the video Where is the ice at, where is them pretty hoes You are far from a real nigga, you already know Broke ass niggas I can't stand them I hit 'em with the cannon I buying out the mall at random Juicy J that nigga is fresh to death Smoke till there is nothing left Bail off and then I'm ghost in my Phantom
(Refrão: Future) Talking 'bout you popping tags, nigga you ain't bought shit Talking bout a hunned bottles, nigga you ain't popped shit All you talk nana clips, nigga you ain't shot shit Spending money on these hoes, nigga you ain't fuck shit
Compositores: Jordan Houston (Juicy J), Nayvadius Demun Wilburn, Michael Len Williams Ii (Mike-will), Justin Devon Garner (J Bo) ECAD: Obra #30743213