All that talkin, yeah, all that bluffin, yeah
All that talkin, yeah, all that bluffin, yeah
The ones that hating, don't got nothing on
The ones that hating, don't got nothing on
She don't got nothing on
I turn nothing to something, yeah
Keep it on me in public, yeah
New tracks, they jumping, yeah
Goodie racks, they jumping, yeah
And my Drake, he dumping, yeah
Pussy buds tryna f*cking hate, not on shit
I got racks on me, I'm a f*cking boss if you like reek
If my brother told me he done took a loss, he on my blick
And my blood told me, water, you a boss, keep moving shit
I got so much money, if I took a loss, won't feel that shit
It's like I went too crazy with this shit
It's like I got too lazy with this shit
But I never got lazy with this shit
Mister turn nothing to something, get it gone
Say four was bluffing, so he had to send shots at the dome
The way we get them bowls gone, like Al Capone
I send a pack to get one back bowl boys on the roll
Yo, baby, mama wanna kiss me through the iPhone
She wanna kiss me through the phone like I'm Soulja Boy
We keep them loaded sticks, mama raised a Soulja Boy
We keep them sticks in a whip, fully loaded boy
Bitch say she got a po' boy like a sandwich, I'm a presser boy
Playing game on your hoe like I had a controller boy
We up and pulling, take your change and like we debuff
That boy did all that talk, now they can't find him like he nemo