For we was anything, for you could see us Before we was electric, well, that was PriusBefore we ever dreamt it, hell, it's nothing to dream upCause let's be honest, you didn't ever think that this could be usNow watch me shaking hands on the carpet in demandSliding hard right, like you're seeing me on TinderAnd I'm wild for the night, got no plans on getting freeYou were Instagramming you and now you're Instagramming meSee me walk up in the room, I'm the same motherfucker, what up?I'm the same motherfuckerAnd if you're talking to the crew, better know you ain't * with usYou ain't * with usI did it all on our own, they kept telling us noBut now they open up the doors wherever we goAnd now we walk up in the room and they say motherfuckersWhat up?And they say motherfuckersI sing a pop song, I rap a rock songI sing a club banger, make them pennies, rap songsI'm Showtime, I keep it poppin' like some popcornNow watch me getting money like a motherfuckin' dot comThat's just how you know when you see me in your cityIt's like everywhere I go, everybody fuckin' with meYes, I'm on top of my game, they all chantin' my nameBut I told you if you know me, then you know I never changeSee me walk up in the room, I'm the same motherfuckerYou ain't fuckin' with usAnd if you're talking to the crew, better know you ain't fuckin' with usYou ain't fuckin' with usI did it all on our own, they kept telling us noBut now they open up the doors wherever we goAnd now we walk up in the room and they say motherfuckersWhat up?MotherfuckersWhat up?It's like I'm still the kid in the back of the Ford TaurusWaving to some drivers while they scream their favorite chorusesNow fast forward, my song flashes across the dancefloorIs this the life I asked for?Well, * it, man, of course it isI just needed a mic and a stage I could play onThis life's my playground, I'm Harold with a crayonNow how'd I drive so cold?No shrinkage, no size limit on greatnessDinklishOnly gettin' better, dominate like FedererAnd if you don't like my lyrics, send a letter to the editorHis address is * you, street name is Dear WeddingMake sure you tramp stamp it so I know I still get itAm I a sellout?Cause every show I sell it toAnd hang around with fans that they tell me to get the hell outMiddle finger to the haters, tell them shut upSo if you feel that, let me hear you say what upYou see me walk up in the room, I'm the same motherfuckerWhat up?And if you're talkin' to the crew, better know you ain't fuckin' with usNow you can't see it out on our ownThey kept tellin' us noBut now they open up the doors wherever we goAnd now we walk up in the room and they say motherfuckersWhat up?