text: Young Weezy in this motherfucker handcuff her
  She aint nothin but some stairs, I done ran up her
  I feel player haters stares, they aint sayin nothin
  They aint makin nough from jacks, they aint takin nothin
  I be wakin up the ma, we just straight fuckin
  She get a date with the boy, bitch super lucky
  And the money stills smell like the stuff
  Ive been countin all day, got a hundred paper cuts
  Got a, mouth of syrup and a white paper cup
  Leanin like a motherfucker, might not even say wassup
  Im the personal trainer, take the key, shape it up
  Got rocks on my neck, nigga get your nature up
  Smokin on that bubble gum got a nigga numb
  90 Gs each wrist make a bitch cum
  I just spent a Maserati on my chain man
  So when Im movin I just say Im switchin lanes man
  Made a permanent stain, my name name-brand
  Bet I schooled your bitch with no game plan
  Im a rock star, niggas know the block part
  Niggas know I got bread, toast and pop-tarts
  Hard top cars, drop tops as well
  Hard work, soft work, chop chop and sell
  Cock block hand held, pop pop oh well
  Diamonds on my whole chain, flamin up the whole L
   x2
  Diamonds on my neck, dia-diamonds on my neck
  Diamonds on my neck, dia-diamonds on my neck
  Im smokin pounds of green, smokin pounds of green
  Smokin pounds of green, smokin pounds of green
  Hot boy baby, hotter than them other boys
  Standin by the heater in the summer with the oven on
  Im the nigga that your baby mama lovin on
  Spend your child support on the dress and its coming off
  The youngin is somethin stunnin with the tummy off
  The Testarosa got a ulcer, Im just stuntin yall
  Birdman JR, I get that money yall
  Workin that traffic, call me the cross guard
  I ball hard like the playoffs bitch
  Yall niggas aint playin in the championship, shit
  Where my streets at, nigga where my Gs at?
  Red rags up, where my where my Bs at?