I feel like I beat a murder, murder Fuckin' on a B you never heard of, heard of (Visible and invisible)
That Pope like the leader of the Vati-can He do it again Everything I do they do, guess Yeezy set the trend And we in this bitch again, time to get rich again (Throw your motherfuckin' hands) They lookin' like prey, I guess that's why they praying And when you flyin' private, it can't be no delayin' When I speak my mind it's gon' be some lawsuits and furniture movin' I gotta haul through, like when you be movin' I gotta fly to Japan just to be secluded They did no damage, would I give 'em no chances? Even if they get a chance here's panic like they know Spanish How I brand all of these clothes? How every tantrum I throw make an anthem for hoes? This my life, not a quote
I feel like I beat a murder, murder Fuckin' on a B you never heard of, heard of (Visible and invisible)
I'ma take all my baldies to Giorgio Baldi's Throw my dick a party Your dress code upscale Used to shop at Aldi's I ran up some numbers Now I got what ya all need Give your homegirl the boric acid Save the summer New abs, she dropping fast, it's time to come up Blackout Passin' out and then she wakin' up gorgeous I'm not racist, it's a preference And my bitch lookin' like a reference Throw them, make them moves like a referee Come get on your knees, shawty, I got needs She a loud mouth I need to sign a seal A couple brand new deals Gotta get this shit off my chest I got some shit to spill Passin' out NDA's They can deal with it after I just fucked the world raw, she need a morning after And in the morning after And I quote, "It's only one G. O. A. T, " let you had your fun though Run the block like Mutombo, you had it on loan Every day in New Jersey On my way to New York I was late to every meeting in my Queens tunnel But all the hoes in Hoboken know If I seen you outside with the open-toes You might get you a trip to the Poconos You might have to tell your man a Pinocchio That was a jokey-joke That wasn't nowhere near as funny when you brokey-broke Crying in high school over a high school bitch And she still in the dark taking night school, bitch Look at how we made it like we Mike WiLL bitch Wish somebody woulda warned us When I was fifteen, my soulmate wasn't born yet African king in a different time We got multiple wives too, just at different times Picture this, if every room got a different bitch Do that make me a po-nigga-mist? Without the deals, I guarantee I'm still nigga rich Shit is fucking ridiculous
Compositores: Kanye Omari West, Darhyl Camper Jr, Tyrone William Jr Griffin, Melvin Ray Moore, Charles Njapa, Amber Streeter, Denzel Charles, Auris Quede ECAD: Obra #46140061