Oh, Lord, baby, she got a flip phone Baby, I've been smokin' and talkin', it's so potent, baby We high, baby, and you got the suit Gucci by my man Ferg, baby You a giant, baby, you steppin' on these nicks Sometimes you gotta just ease that left foot off, baby And then put your right foot on the top of that nick, baby, and even harder Cuz you was a dawg, you was a Yeah, legit, Ferg Puppies, baby, they keep, they keep She baby wildin' Rax on Rax on rax Yeah! Dapper than all on my back Right! Double G all on my cap Yeah! Monogram on them 8-pack Yeah! Testin' that **** like pap Snap! Eatin' that **** from the back Yeah! Mambo Rap all on that cat Yeah! Lil Pump G makin' it clack Gah! I'm bout to write Yammy a letter What? Tell him I'm doin' way better Right! Playin' Jay in the song of the year Yeah! Just chasin' the letters Right! I'm a Calvin Klein model on billboards I did a campaign with the fellas Right! Adidas done gave me another deal And Hennessy too, they got cheddar Right! Shoot videos in the PJs Yeah! Then I go hop on the PJs Yeah! They sendin' me all these free clothes Right! Momma just put it on Ebay Yeah! I run this **** like a relay Ooh! Don't have to press replay Ooh! Let me say hi to my daddy for me Ooh! Don't have to pay for TJ God, would it be raining outside? You the umbrella Cause **** just bounce off you with that Gucci God! I'ma call you Chrissy Yawa Gucci, baby Cause you just all over the **** world with this ****, baby Jigga cannot touch you Trench coat mob is a go-go gadget You don't wanna see your pretty scene get drastic The Lord's no photo package **** fling it close to the screen like a phat Even though my name is Denzel, no acting Pop, pop, puttin' everything inside a casket Track that, everything is gonna be a classic Rap that, put that **** inside a propylactic When I'm rappin', got no heart on double-tappin' From a CD built on **** pistol packin' See you flaggin' and they beggin' what you lackin' Take you out and then they act like nothin' happened Amnesia, get ready to heat up Back in the hood when they blowin' on reflop Little like when you **** with Alita Now I'm **** overseas when they checkin' my visa Look! Lord, baby, what kind of flip phone you got? Is that a NexTel, baby? Nuh-uh, chirp, baby **** got a boost, baby What the ****? You gotta step it up, you need to get you a trap phone You need to get one of these **** on the rollers, baby Can't even track us, baby Finger roll, finger roll, finger roll, finger roll, dunk Yeah, ballin' on my enemies I ain't even tyin' up the punks Huh, imagine when I tie them up Yeah, I shake them, they gon' need a crutch Yeah, and I ain't talkin' groupie **** When I say they got they panties in a bunch I'm talkin' ****, I ain't talkin' not They ain't talkin' figures, gotta be six, seven or better Tryna get a house, gotta get my bread up Tryna stay on pace, you gon' have to step up Cruisin', race, shift and make it get up Pull up to the pace, the one we met up Yeah, I'm gettin' buzzed, but I never let up I ain't seen a doctor, but I got my check up Check up, check up, check up, check up I'm playin' chess, you suck on checkers That's why your gang can never check us They check your chain, and now you necklace Check up, check up, check up, check up I gotta check on my watch I'm losin' track of time Cause I don't hear a tick on no top