[Verse 2: Lil Wayne]
I don’t connect when I’m flying
I call her Steph ’round this bitch
But swear to god, I got money doing life in my safe
And they chirp, chirp too
And you know life is a movie, you niggas rating yourself

Put some respect on my shit

I am the landlord to the first
I’m hiding the sky in her twinkle
On my god, lightning striking twice in this place
Please get the sweat out her eye
And when I did, I took the special effect out of that shit
Damn, that’s some six shit
We gon’ have to break the billi’ curse
So tell your squad I say "BLAOW" like Spice1 would say
Young Angel, Young Lion
I put the dick in her spine
If I ever see Trump he better salute niggas
Tunechi F ’round this bitch
The Angel and Lion are greats
It’s Mortal Kombat tonight, it’s Street Fighter today
The best thing left ’round this bitch
Everybody gotta eat, we can’t exclude niggas
I taught these hoes how to love
This for Cita and Nae
I could care less about your squad
I make the crib, expanding pools, and expanding rooms
Inspiring to the youth
I’m at the crib with Puff, he got Kaepernick on the phone
I just hope the weather is fine
That shit could get re-introduced if somebody got something they urging to prove, nigga
Pick you off like picking peppers, Peter Piper today
I come direct with my shit
Just to show them how I treat the city like my humble abode
Give all the credit to moms
Yeah, you know life is a movie, you niggas playing yourself
Adding Hammam Spas with tanning booths, nigga
Dedication 6, of course
The eyes don’t lie until you blink them
[Verse 1: Drake]
I’m Major Bison, Drizzy lit like Raiden light up the place
Although I bleeped in your face
He in a whole different mode
That’s truth, no boost, nigga
Your flag is a white one today

This for my people and BAE
I took the jet to Dubai
Talked to your wifey today, she feeling triflin’ she say
It’s every baby for sale
Six shit
Super Bowl goals
I took the jet to Milan
It’s every man for themselves
I come correct with my shit
We made the cleaners escape
I taught these boys how to lean
Should we make a wish or should we make it right in this place?
These boys hide girls too
You see blue face hundreds ’til you white in the face
For real
Put on the gloves like MJ, go from OG to OJ
Much as we do nigga
[Intro: Drake]
One of them go "boutta bing"
I want Arabian wealth
‘Cause business is booming on behalf of me
Them niggas keep me on safe
Then got the heck out that shit
I’m on a jet and it’s mine
Got two bangers, one of them go "boutta boom"
I am the fat boy to dessert
I took the jet way to Africa
My nigga spend a lifetime going platinum and gold
Wait, we all in the same suit
More Life, no dying
I need some ownership if we pressing go
I want my piece of the cake
Fuck is the point in all the beefing when we really blood
New Years Eve, looking like a royal flush
Here come the leaves, get the rake
[Interlude: Lil Wayne]
I’m thinking about paying Wayne what Universal owes
You call her Stephanie
I just hope there’s a point to watch you pussies play with yourselves
But this isn’t all about calling truce
Hey whats for dinner? Popeyes
These chickens got bird flu
And she’ll be sweeter than cake
Branches starting to shake
Shoutout Guru for sending me the beat, too
I fucked the bitch in her prime
He aiming at diapers today
I want Arabian wealth
Oh my god, it feel like I done life in this place
You playing with the right one today
Your bitch sweating my squad
Shoutout my nigga Akon
My Karma making the news, nigga
The mansion came with the sprinklers
I make you pay attention then rip your receipt in your face
Stuck my neck out and shit
Angel hair at 2AM for Bey and Hov
You snakes come make me a belt
Talked to the sniper, he say
Alright I got it
Now back to whipping the baby
You snakes come make me a belt
Always sung, never flew
Here comes the leaves, get the rake
Nobody wins when the family feuds, nigga
That’s some six shit
If money grow on trees, I climb and rest in that bitch
I am the black god to the church
He should own half of the label, shit outta control
I need a bite outta the Apple like Adam and Eve
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
You wearing them tight ones today
A blank check on your face
I’m hall of fame in the booth, nigga
Check me a right one today
I got three sons of a gun
Hold up
I need my paper long like "A Milli" verse
I flipped the bird at the bird
Ayy, tell me if TD bank is approving loans
Build a treehouse and knocked the bird nest out that bitch
I’m still dishing out verbal abuse
All you niggas some bitches, I feel like Hef ’round this bitch
And we ain’t leaving the rake
Or, too long like a sentence from a Philly judge
This pudding taste like the proof, nigga
You playing with fire today

Keep the iron for the wrinkles
Somebody get Larry Jackson on the phone
Don’t get my credit declined
Yeah, yeah, yeah
On some step mama shit
All these mother fucking beef, I need some rice on this plate