Brr

Cocaine, caviar, and grouper fishes (Sniff)
You see a bunch of rappers, I see a group of bitches (Haha)
No broke niggas around me
That shit might rub off, I'm superstitious (Get out of here)
Direct deposit just came in, that shit was too ridiculous
My music motivate dudes in the trenches
usin' switches (Uh-huh)
Ain't even gotta drop a bag
them boys gon' do your dishes (Boom, boom, boom)
Bro got all that time, he appealed
and they reduced the sentence
And he still gotta do two digits (That's fucked up) , shit
Word to my nigga Malice, everything I spew malicious
That's just somethin' to think
about when y'all do y'all lists (Talk that shit)
Run at me, you runnin' towards a wall, boy
I ain't movin' inches (Uh-huh)
DJ modified the yacht, he like "Buzz
check my new invention" (What up, Buzz?)
Haha, yeah, niggas can't control their emotions
show their true intentions
That bitch was broke, that made me lose my interest
I'm so in the lead, I could leave
for three years and still ain't losin' distance (Ha)
Look, it was resi' in them pots and them pans
now it's tropical sand (Whip up)
I told her "Don't even pack
we gon' shop when we land" (We shoppin')
Private villa, seafood tower, lobster
and clam (Get money, bitch)
So paranoid, some nights
I sleep with this Glock in my hand (Uh-huh)
Havin' visions of niggas that I done shot
with this can (I swear)
It's niggas that I love, I know
tryna plot on my land (Who plottin', huh?)
Whack 'em, bury 'em in my yard
dig his plot on my land (Woo)
Shit, I'm just that nigga, boy, look at my run
Look all of the classics
that I dropped in the span of six years
It would seem I did the impossible, damn
Came a long way from when a nigga was shot in my van
Tourin' overseas, I just had a moshpit in France
Puttin' on for my niggas that's locked in the jam (Ah)
I don't rock with industry niggas
they is not my mans (Uh-huh)

I don't trust no fuckin' body
but this heckler (Boom, boom, boom)
Just spent thirty-thousand in the Webster (Ah)
You know the God, nothin' more, nothin' lesser (Uh-uh)
Jamaican, raw, hit him in his head
and said "Bless up" (Boom, boom, boom, boom, boom)
Ayo, Jamaican, raw, hit him in his head
and said "Bless up" (Boom, boom, boom, boom, boom)
Ayo, tell 'em to bring the match
to wear Bottega green satchels (Grr)
Bet I'll be at you, Tom Ford tracksuit
Prince Markie D on the stove, wearin' raccoons
You just got it, I wore this shit
Fashion Week last June (Ah)
Balenciaga, Adida', baklava
(Doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot)
The chopper shot, the suede Maserati
with the Prada top (Skrrt)
American cups, patent leathers on blasè blah (Hmm)
Denim Tears Saint Michael top off
Mardi Gras (Brr, brr, brr, brr)
I talked to Sly and Kutter today (Ah)
Still be in the hood, got a house on the lake
Got album of the year, still get work from the Bay (Ah)
Otis had been told me "If you gon' play, you gotta play"
My nigga just seen a boy, stomach hurtin'
he gotta stay (Hmm)
Gave Y. N. a new Griselda chain and a Drac' (Brr)
(Brr)