So we spend the final days looking for gold The smoke that rises from our stone will turn this world to dust High and low, above below We look in
I keep calling you [Kanye West] Christian Dior denim flow I told her I'm tryna eat out so what we going for dinner for [Pusha T] Miami nights on the search for
the number You say you dropping 10 pounds, preparing for summer And you don't do it for the man, men never notice You just do it for yourself, you're the fucking
on a train! YouknowhatI'msayin? Try that shit on a fuckin train What kind of shit, youknowhatI'msayin? Got a thousand niggaz write for him, let ME write for
got the game in a smash (OH THAT'S CRAZY) Fuck around and put a foot in your ass (OH THAT'S CRAZY) See, I'm thirsty, still lookin' for cash (OH THAT'S
you know? Verse Two: Puff Daddy Shorty was brimmin, singin, hangin with cats who move bricks Heard she do backflips, for niggaz who stack chips Suck for dough, now she fuck for Bills up
Short circuits blacken the blocks out Now open up the garage and pull the drops out Rockin the fur coat bringin the blue fox out [Busta Rhymes] Diamonds light up
the blocks out Now open up the garage and pull the drops out Rockin the fur coat bringin the blue fox out [Busta Rhymes] Diamonds light up the block
fall up in the spot, poppin bottles like [?] PJ [?] bitch don't bring me no Cristal Veuve Clicquot Champagne like we won the World Cup pull up in that champagne thing, fuck the World up
that always give me back pain Fuckin' up my money so, yeah, I had to act And short nigga but these ho's love my accent She came up to me and said this
with the crown, yes No, I'm not lucky I'm blessed, yes Clap for the heavyweight champ, me But I couldn't do it all alone, we Young Money raised me, grew up
out to play Because for enough cold cash they'll look the other way Just look at the cars as they go by Benz,Ferraris,trucks up high Beepers connecting
game tight So many hos on my jock, think I'm a movie star Nineteen, I got a fifty thousand dollar car Go to school, I ain't goin' for it Kiss my ass
it What's up now punk? You start to choke up? You try to move on the ice, you'll get broke up Midnight, time for a homicide Showtime, somebody's gonna
fat tracks, fuck the pop crap I got a mind to cold diss a fool Wack rappers sellin out urge me to pull tools For no reason Pop suckers hookin for hits
only worry 'bout the basic stroll Hooking up my Cadillac, and upping my gold Throw in a blow job, they'll fuck off grands A hundred for a full hit, 50 for
to fuck my girl, behind my back, imajin' that I told her go ahead and try it just for the laughter Now where feelin' bad for all tha hoes you're goin' after Looks
