I gotta smoke somethin'
Then I rub yo' body with some lotion
I'm poppin' champagne, pass me the wine, baby
Don't need to complain, I'm gettin' high, baby
She playin' T-Pain, we want the same thing
She play into my hand, we want the same things
But my mind tellin' me that you gon' play away
I'll talk right through that pain
I'll talk right through yo'—
You know you know my name
Tick-tock, it's time to change
Rick Ross, bae, I'm self-made
We fuckin' at the bank
The money counter came
Fuckin' on yo' misses
Make her wash the dishes
All hits and no misses
Hope you paid attention
My car got hella pistons
My wrist, goddamn, it glisten
Talk to my Glock, bitch, kiss it
Both of them got extensions
My white like Kylie Jenner
This dope got racist parents
Bag on yo' head, I sell it
Go 'head, jump off that ledge

Bitch, I got opps on top of opps
Bitch, I got opps on top of opps
Yeah, I got opps on top of opps
Don't plug yo' block, gon' leave it shocked
Yeah, I got opps on top of opps
Yeah, I got opps on top of opps
Yeah, I got opps on top of opps
We bleed yo' block, you—
Yeah, yeah, yeah

I need a smoke break
I came back and puttin' up them numbers, I went pro today
Nigga, you ain't big homie, boy, you is just my protégé
Cup lookin' like it's midnight 'cause I poured a eight
Think them niggas as cold as me
Please go check my temperature
He'll get hit with a Dillinger
Had to get my milli's up
I watch her like cinema
Girl, you know you what I want
Shit like anime, they fight me and I get away
Had the wrong shit, but it's okay
I'll get it, yeah, one day
I need a smoke break, yeah, baby