Joyner Lucas, bitch, I’m hotter than a fuckin’ sauna
And then I’ma proceed and play with the pussy
I’ma lay in it, hit it, hit it one more time
You don’t really wanna see Brown
Leave that shit for the chumps, I still get what I want
Bitch, I’m Irak (jheeze)
Bitch, I’m the professor, you a student to me, woah
Vet, so I’m finna good will these niggas (celebrate)
Pop up with the chopper and artificial niggas actin’ like bitches, it done started up a epidemic
A hundred million platinum, fuck it, you ain’t gotta listen (celebrate)
I just might take her ’round to Applebee’s (Applebee’s)
Save a lotta money on Geico (jheeze)
You better be sure, better be sure
And every motherfuckin’ record, that’s a hit, I record it (celebrate)
All we do is win, you a loser to me
Time is money, need to fuck around and bill these niggas
Oh shit, I’m the shit, you could smell me, nigga
Now choke, talk to the dick honestly
I’m dope, bitch, comin’ like Eenie Meenie Miney Mo (celebrate)
It’s complicated, fuckin’ up with my main bitch
But I give a Uzi, it’s a doozie, make a movie if you’re actin’, so (celebrate)
I’ma kill these niggas, I should grill these niggas
Do anything that I want to it, think I’m gon’ dance on the moon like Michael (elevate)
Chocolate chip and I relate to Jolly Ranchers
[Verse 2: Joyner Lucas & Chris Brown]
Shut up before I spank you for actin’ up
Now I’m wakin’ up in cabanas ’cause she bad as fuck
You paid your way for this fade and can’t even afford it
And I’m so bored, I might switch cars
Now the police tryna lock me in the prison, said I’m guilty
Turn your fuckin’ block into a light show (Joyner)
You can’t give me neck with a mouth full of cavities
And all my life want the food
Joyner, I don’t really feel these niggas
Walk in the trap like a boss, ooh
Pretty with a face full of scars, all they did was build me up
Stick to bubblegum and watermelon flavored
Bitch better believe that I’ma sniper (yeah)
With some shooters, we jump inside of the Buick

You wiggity-wack with the strap, you cross-criss, make you jump
You duck and hide from the Rugers
Bunch of lil niggas tried grabbin’ me (grabbin’ me)
Like you have a label, call the doctor
Seventy-five mil’, look at me now (celebrate)
Ain’t never had the shit in my side
A couple choppers, acoustic and the guitar
Don’t wanna believe in my mind, but you believe in my dump
Heard you niggas got the juice, but I got Corona
Let me double it Watch you utter, stop stutterin’, what you spend?
Hol’ up, I ain’t gotta pay to kill these niggas
Break ribs, yeah, you don’t want no real beef, nigga
Hoe, you know I’m drippin’ with the sauce, ooh
Hard to make ’em happy, all these bitches stay mad at me
Order Cheesecake Factory, bubblin’, why you mumblin’?
When it’s summertime and the juice
Yeah, I make you niggas (elevate)
They must have forgot that I’m pyscho (jheeze)
You don’t wanna see the other side of me (yeah)

Try to take me apart, they ain’t never wanna (celebrate)
I was watchin’, you was shoppin’
Sick of rubbin’ shoulders, now I’m runnin’ over every motherfucker who ain’t wanna get in my ride

Bottles and a bucket full of ice (yeah)
Hoe, you actin’ like a pig, you fuckin’ filthy, nigga
I’m so sick of niggas tellin’ me how I’ve been livin’ my life
Heard the chopper make ’em do the macarena
You know I’m ’bout to take you from your man though (celebrate)
Nigga, look at my eyes, you ’bout to give me my bonus
I say As-salāmu ʿalaykum when I tear apart some bacon
Puttin’ my face in it, never wastin’ it
I’m takin’ a knee for my side, could give a fuck ’bout they owners
I’m fuckin’ tired of these losers
And strategize with the movement
Lime green ‘rari, two twins, call ’em double mints
It’s a matter of time ‘fore I lose it
[Verse 1: Chris Brown]
Say no more Oh, you want war?
All you niggas sweet as candy
Take flex, Fresh Prince, Uncle Phil these niggas
Get the paper, I’ma (celebrate)
I criss-cross with the pump, ain’t no bricks in the trunk
I don’t like when I lose (I don’t), if I don’t buy her them shoes, I don’t like those (regulate)
When the music, guess I’m alive and I use it
I said da da da da da, come and kill me, nigga
Rappers wanna talk about battle me (Joyner)
Givin’ it to the side bitch at the same damn time
Better make room, vroom hear the Lambo (celebrate)
[Verse 3: Chris Brown & Joyner Lucas]
Now I’m poppin’, I’m poppin’, and your bitch keep hittin’ my line
If all you pussy niggas my kids are in trouble then
I never lie but the truth is
You better step down to me, feel the dick, bitch, open up your mouth for me
All you new niggas don’t do it for me, look (woah)
Five foot five, boy, you niggas like half of me
And all gorillas don’t want bananas ‘less your chain is tucked
Got a little Spanish bitch, I call her maricona
Designer shades on, like you cooler than me, wait (ayy)
You know I don’t keep my cape on a hoodie
It don’t make a difference, nigga, we winnin’, I’m plenty grinnin’
And all these bad bitches can’t keep their feet down (elevate)
I’m the realest nigga, that I know
While I’m drivin’, I’m moonwalking in the sky
Listen, nigga, mind your business
On the corner
Give her long dick and a strawberry daiquiri
And neighbors knockin’ on my door, what the fuck you want?
Get stuck inside of the cubics
[Verse 4: Joyner Lucas, Chris Brown & Both]
And every motherfuckin’ snitch up in this bitch, they reported (celebrate)
Need to stop all that shit, talkin’ put the seat down
But I’d rather die than to lose