[Intro: Quavo] Yah! Young rich nigga Migos in the building Young rich nigga shit, man Fuck wrong with these niggas man... Go!
[Hook: Quavo] Yo' bitch wanna fuck the squad Cause she see exotic cars Them niggas hating on your boy Bow, bow, gruow, gruow We got body parts Young rich nigga tryna see a milli I got niggas that'll get you for a meal ticket I know niggas that remix, re-rock the whole chicken I feel like the president, Richard Nixon
[Verse 1: Quavo] Gotta watch for them snake niggas plotting Young rich nigga I'm walking around with the rocket I ain't seen you in two years so how I fuck with you? I ain't even gon' touch you I'ma let my man's get you I pull up and pop in the trunk and it looking like hopscotch, big blocks Remember me hitting the juugs and licks, and ducking and dodging the cops I feel like 2Pac, it's me against the world and I can't be stopped It's me in the drop, came from holes in my sock, and now I got guap
[Hook]
[Verse 2: Takeoff] Gruow, gruow, gruow we got body parts I don't need no body guard, I just use my face card In the kitchen frying fishes, got to come with tartar sauce Call me Pastor Takeoff, healing niggas Peter Popoff I'm A1 nigga no stakes off Baking the birdies, I'm having a bake-off Extorting these niggas and money they pay off These niggas got work but ain't working they late off I hop out the Porsche like I'm Jeffrey Dahmer A living legend, Ronald McDonald My wrist terminator, but I am no Arnold Football Xans, I call 'em Hey Arnold
[Hook]
[Verse 3: Offset] Fuck nigga talking hit 'em with extensions Throw 'em in the river now the nigga missing Fuck nigga tripping I pan I hit em with semi's he don't even see it If I catch a body I'm gonna be innocent Clear the whole scene and I'm leaving no witnesses Everybody get it even civilians The only people that I spare is the children I'm sending you niggas to take away your body parts Karate chop that nigga like it's martial-arts Shot that nigga left 'em at the park Put the pussy nigga on a milk carton My choppa banana-clipped, it got a knife Don't roll the dice nigga you risk your life I'm pouring up lean on your grave-site I throw him the bullet he catch it like Jerry Rice
[Verse 4: Machine Gun Kelly] Ugh, fuck a bitch cause it's Thug Life Smoking good cause my plug right 200k sold on my debut release 200 felons locked up from the team Popping 200 bottles the day they release Yes, I am deceased, meaning I'm raiding from all of these sheets Get Rich or Die Tryin' keep that on repeat And all these bitches is trying to get on me And I fuck all of them hoes, got 2 cell phones, can't none of them call meTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
