Fuckin' put on the wrong head pair of headphones and shit. Uh! Just took ten shots and I ain't pass out. Spent a hundred grand and I ain't cash out. If you smokin' OG, bring the grass out. These niggas filled up, bring the gas out. Talkin' bout some shit that you know you stole. I have my fuckin' way with this game, no remote control. Drinkin' on some gin cause I like alcohol. How the fuck you supposed to win, you don't know how to ball. Turned up but still smokin'. Tryna drive but my eyes barely open. See the car, seen the watch so y'all done moved up. In my condo smokin' out, watchin' True Blood. Tryna take Taco to the strip club. Tryna take Tyler to the dealer bruh. Tryna take Domo to the weed spot. True Pot head so I need pot. Go! I'm so fuckin' loaded. Pockets in the smoke and all the bitches. Tell em, go! Faded and I'm floatin'. I hope their lungs is open, all the bitches. Tell em, go! Now I've been around the world before. But I never thought it'd be this way. And I've been ballin' sweet before. But I never thought it'd feel this way. Celebration shots got me really faded. Kinda famous enough to laugh like I really made it. Drunk enough to start some controversy. Bitch let's fuckin' tape it. I feel amazing makin' digits off my fuckin' cadence. Suck a dick, hate em, while I selfie with the Eiffel Tower. Five star general to our future, I'm Eisenhower. Said I couldn't make it, I show you niggas to fight the power. Ignite a sour, watchin' Chowder in my finest hour. A clear mix of acid jazz and bluegrass. Niggas feel stuck in the past, openin' new scabs. Me and Wiz mashin' bottles, nigga open two taps. Stumblin' out with six models, my nigga order two caps. And he ain't worried about rivals, them niggas too trash. Fuck what niggas think, I'm the illest one in the new class. And I don't give a fuck what niggas ain't fuckin' with. O-F-W-G, run with the team, I suck a dick. Go! I'm so fuckin' loaded. Pockets in the smoke and all the bitches. Tell em, go! Faded and I'm floatin'. I hope their lungs is open, all the bitches. Tell em, go! We can have some more. Start it up until I'm gone. Yeah! And all the bitches be like, yeah! Guitars sound like some Kill Bill shit. Watch. Watch. That's that church tambourine shit. Grandma used to play that. Nigga. Go for it. Yes sir! I got old money, I got new money. Put em together, got huge money. Bank teller, call my phone. She tell me, I'm puttin' on. Twenty years of success, let's toast to the best. Sip on some Ace and I pour out the rest. Fuck bitches, get in. Drink gin, fuck the friends. Juicy J, three hoes. In the white on white Benz. I stay sippin' Codine. Blue dream, I'm rollin' up. Lookin' for a rich bitch with bank statements like Oprah. These black diamonds racist. Louis V, no laces. My plug on call, comin' straight up out the basement. All I know is money, it don't look like you. One shot from the chopper, make you look like two. Go! Go!