[Verse 1]
I keep white by the gram, like a glass of milk
Keep cake so I gotta have the Coolest Whip
Eightball for your pocket; No cue to stick
Like a alchy on a bender, I could use the fifth
Cause the bitch I pitch is so sultry—trust me
White girl that turn a Muslim nigga to adultery
Add bakin’ soda, turn sugar to candy
‘Cause I can move the rock like Solomon Vandy
The stones in my Rollie like Amos and Andy
My crib’s in the hills where my neighbors can’t stand me
Hurry-caine by the bird like I play for Miami
My weight gain’s famous; they should hand me the Grammy
DEA so close, they almost family
But Natti speak in code, so they can’t understand me
So like a New Era, I’ma stay on top
While you nick’ and dime niggas gon’ stay on “Cops”

[Verse 2]
So many locksmith rappers, all about the keys
In this land of make believe, fiends pose as kings
Everything that bling blings ain’t gold, it seems
No more plaques for raps; been reduced to rings
Lips like sugar, full of cocaine slang
Talk real rich with no neck game
When every blunt’s dro like there’s no plain jane
On a lost highway, trafficin’ one lane
Two thousand miles til that dead-end came
It’s a motherfuckin’ shame it’s the motherfuckin’ same
How many damn rappers slap “Young” in front their name?
How many grams after rap? Residue remains
Back when the inkpen made you a kingpin
But now the shit’s played and you stuck in your ways
Now you feel real lame, as you think in your brain
(That was when I ruled the world)

[Verse 3]
Big rims, big gems, dark tint on the ‘Lac
I’m bout dealin’ in dollars, fuck dealin in fact
I used to hustle for rent, now I’m spendin a stack
‘Cause dopeboy rap’s what’s good in the trap
If I can get enough ringtones on cell phones
Far as Sprint goes I’ll be certified plat’
Rock enough big clothes while my bling shows
For some crack tales, what’s the harm in that?
Saditty niggas talkin’ like I’m harmin’ rap
In my city, niggas lovin’ that we on the map
A&R on me hard ‘bout my album stats
But I’m a star in the making, they can’t drop this act

[Verse 4]
I know… “A hustler do, what a hustler can”
I walked the road from dope boy to smart man
In a jungle full of monkeys that listen to Tarzan
Just tryn’a be stars but they just comets for real
A flash in the sky, ‘cause it’s nothin to deal
Plenty trappers in the hood, you ain’t inventin’ the wheel
Plus these labels play dirty like Commissioner’s Shield
Now you missin’ on charts, and you missin’ your meals
Again—back when the inkpen made you a kingpin
But now the shit’s played, you just stuck in your ways
Don’t you feel real lame, when you think in your brain
(That was when I ruled the world)