text: Goddamn, I feel like the man
  Freshman of the year, I woke up like the man
  Never poppin Xans, cause they killin me, damn
  When you got the money, they be tryin be your friend
  Okay, this a lame-ass beat
  Walk up on your bitch, my dick eight feet deep
  Why he talking out his lip? He know aint shit sweet
  Ayy, ayy, your block Im gon sweep
  Ayy, ayy, bussdown, not regular face 
  Ayy, chasin blues like DaBaby 
  Ayy, swervin round with cake 
  Ayy, dropped out, no, I didnt graduate, man
  Real hot girl shit, aah
  Bitch, Im with your man, tryna see what the hit for
  Post a new pic for a bitch Ima shit on
  Big bag talk, make that little money get gone
  I love cash, I be in the back, tryna get it on
  Im gettin money, I aint even mad atcha
  Rich bitch shit, I might throw a bag atcha
  Speakin on my name only make it sound better
  Your nigga in my DM, and he write love-letters
  Say that booty looking softer than Hawaiian rolls
  I be in the gym, Im your girls body-goals
  Flexin on the gram do it for the mad hoes
  Everything I do they watchin me like Im on parole
  Couple of these bitches niggas on my block list
  Drop a screenshot if I wanna start shit
  I aint fucked your man, that aint how I rock sis
  I just took him to the bank to make a deposit, aah
  Mmm-mmm, yeah-yeah, mmm
  She see body, when she lookin at a young nigga
  I fuck her good, now she talk about a young nigga
  And I dont understand these bitches, why they like me
  I put it in, now she wanna act so feisty
  Now she say she worth it, but she aint worth it
  I put them diamonds on my wrist, and now she want me
  I swear you niggas always lookin like yall know me
  I put them diamonds on my neck, and now they want it
  And now she wanna get it right now
  And Ima let her go for right now
  And when she talkin bout she bout it, she aint bout it
  And when Im bout it, she aint bout it, mmm, bout it, mmm, yeah-yeah
  Everybody know my name
  Ringin bell, ringin bell like the hallway
  I aint gotta cap in no motherfucking rap
  I whip out and air it out broad day
  I got in with the stick, and Im with that
  Break a nigga in half like a Kit-Kat
  I been tryna be positive mama
  They aint fuckin wit Jonathan, mama
  Who you know put they motherfuckin self on the map
  And now they dont owe nobody shit
  I send one of my lil niggas, come take you off
  You get laid on the floor by a jit
  Got pulled over with 55K in my pocket
  The police they know Im legit
  The police they know I got sticks
  They be worried about me, they know Ima click
  These niggas they know Im a dawg, I aint worried about him
  I know he a bitch
  The next nigga that come play with me
  Ima send him to go ask 2Pac for a pic
  They say Im the hottest new nigga
  Go check the thermometer, that nigga sick
  Nigga must have a fever or somethin
  Heard he was born up on Cleveland or somethin
  Let me give you a history lesson
  We moved back to Charlotte, 1999
  I aint sayin that none of that matter
  If somebody touch me, then somebody die
  Why he talkin so calm when he say that?
  How you make him rewind and replay that?
  Who you know get a fade once a week
  And aint tryna get waves, fuck a motherfuckin wave-cap
  Everytime that the DJ play Suge
  Niggas throw up they arm like a motherfuckin racetrack
  Everytime that my babygirl see me, she run
  And say Daddy, I love when she say that
  Everytime I hit one of my moves, all the bitches go crazy
  They like how I do that
  I keep one in the head, if I dont let off first
  Ima dive to the side when I shoot back
  Yeah, Im comin like Blade in this bitch
  Fuck around, and walked down in a trenchcoat
  They gon have to put me with the greats
  Wanna fuck with me, she gotta wait
  On a yacht, with Mimi and the kids
  Theres four of us, were on the sea eatin steak
  I aint goin ooh-ooh on a bitch
  I aint goin out sad bout no ho, Im a pimp
  He keep bumpin his motherfuckin gums
  We gon put his ass up like a motherfuckin blimp
  Like to talk on the pillow wit hoes thats gon get him
  Exposed, he a muhfuckin simp
  You know he keep that thang on him baby
  Quit askin him why that boy walk with a limp
  I ont care bout this motherfuckin chain
  But I still bust your motherfuckin brain
  Just got head on a motherfucking plane
  Aint no cap in my rap, Im the truth
  End up fuckin yo hoe from the back
  I knew hoe for a day, she wont ghost, she the swoup
  And these niggas aint livin like that, why he talkin so gangsta?
  Your boy, he a fluke
  They know Baby gon blow, he a flute
  They know Baby gon blow, he the bomb
  They know Baby was just in Miami
  Now he in LA, nigga think he LeBron
  They know Baby go baby on baby
  But five years ago, niggas say he was Jon
  I touch down at the front of the plane
  And the driver come pick up my Louis Vuitton
  While he drive me around, I be blowin out pressure
  Im chillin backseat with the iron