Okay we walk off in this bitch (yeah) Ballin' in this bitch (okay) Hoppin' out of Lambos and Ferraris in this bitch Poppin' bottles with a thick red super model bitch They may talk a lot of that but they can't do alot of this Ay, Rico told me turn the lights on (turn the lights on) So I grab the Audemar and threw the ice on I'm a big dawg, got em pissed off A lot of niggas rapping, ain't none this raw They like, "Ay, look at T.I., ballin' in the V.I. Bunch of bad bitches with him looking like Aaliyah" We just pull up, hop out Go in, show out Buy the whole bar, pop bottles go hard This club so packed, these hoes so drunk This club so packed, these hoes so drunk This club so packed, these hoes so drunk I got a bottle, got a model, got a molly, got a blunt Ball, ball, ball, ball Ball, ball, ball, ball Ball, ball, ball, ball (this club so packed, these hoes so drunk) I got a bottle, got a model, got a molly, got a blunt The club full of bad bitches and they came to play Okay it must be your ass 'cause it ain't your face Now if you looking for them bottles and them stacks girl Then make your way up to my section where it's at girl Okay now do you wanna kick it with a nigga with a meal ticket? Broke nigga looking mad, they just gotta deal with it Get right hoe, roll a dice hoe And y'ain't gotta be a dyke 'cause you like hoe But everyday I step behind a wall I do it big, ride fly, stunt, shine and ball I got a bunch of money, so come and get it from me And a bucket full of bottles, buss it open If you wanna get drunk (turn the lights on) This club so packed, these hoes so drunk This club so packed, these hoes so drunk This club so packed, these hoes so drunk I got a bottle, got a model, got a molly, got a blunt Ball, ball, ball, ball (yeah, Tip) Ball, ball, ball, ball Ball, ball, ball, ball (this club so packed, these hoes so drunk) I got a bottle, got a model, got a molly, got a blunt Ain't no nigga like a Young Money nigga Pop that pussy like a gun, pull the trigger Shake that ass like a salt shaker I keep a L lit up like an elevator Bitch shake it like a dog, hop like a frog, ride it like a horse I throw that dick like darts Drink all muddy, flag all bloody I'm killin' these hoes like that nigga Ted Bundy I'm a good looking rapper, I ain't tryna stunt I'm a fire my blunt like Donald Trump Where you at hoe? Where you at hoe? Can a nigga stick his key up in ya back door (turn the lights on) Tunechi This club so packed, these hoes so drunk This club so packed, these hoes so drunk This club so packed, these hoes so drunk I got a bottle, got a model, got a molly, got a blunt And do ya thing in slow motion like Soulja Slim And come around, wipe me down like Boosie (free Boosie) Now back that thang up for me, show me that you love me If it's really too much for you you can bring a couple buddies Everyday I do my thang, big stones and chains She let me drill all in her mouth, no Novocaine Them other broke niggas, all they did was told ya thangs I could get ya on that G4 and show ya thangs I like my women fat, ass pretty toes and thangs Long hair don't care as long as none down there If it's manicured I can have fun down there Take you to whatever club throw some money in the air This club so packed, these hoes so drunk (haha) This club so packed, these hoes so drunk (yeah) This club so packed, these hoes so drunk (yeah, yeah) I got a bottle, got a model, got a molly, got a blunt (Young Mula baby) Ball, ball, ball, ball Ball, ball, ball, ball Ball, ball, ball, ball (this club so packed, these hoes so drunk) I got a bottle, got a model, got a molly, got a blunt

You got the light, count it all joy You got the right to be mad But when you carry it alone, you find it only getting in the way They say you gotta let it go Now tell 'em why you mad son 'Cause doing it all ain't enough 'Cause everyone all in my cup 'Cause such and such still owe me bucks So I got the right to get bucked But I try not to let it build up I'm too high, I'm too better, too much So I let it go, let it go, let it go I ran into this girl, she said, "Why you always blaming?" "Why you can't just face it?" (Be mad, be mad, be mad) "Why you always gotta be so mad?" (Be mad, be mad, be mad) "Why you always talking shit, always be complaining?" "Why you always gotta be, why you always gotta be so mad?" (Be mad, be mad, be mad) I got a lot to be mad about (Be mad, be mad, be mad) Where'd your love go? Where'd your love go? Where'd your love go? Where'd your love go? Where'd your love go? Where'd your love, baby? Yeah, but I, got a lot to be mad about Got a lot to be a man about Got a lot to pop a Xan about I used to rock hand-me-downs, and now I rock standing crowds But it's hard when you only Got fans around and no fam around And if they are, then their hands are out And they pointing fingers When I wear this fucking burden on my back like a motherfucking cap and gown Then I walk up in the bank, pants sagging down And I laugh at frowns, what they mad about? 'Cause here come this motherfucker with this mass account That didn't wear cap and gown Are you mad 'cause the judge ain't give me more time? And when I attempted suicide, I didn't die I remember how mad I was on that day Man, you gotta let it go before it get up in the way Let it go, let it go I ran into this girl, she said, "Why you always blaming?" "Why you can't just face it?" "Why you always gotta be so mad?" (Be mad, be mad, be mad) I got a lot to be mad about (Be mad, be mad, be mad) Where'd your love go? Where'd your love go? Where'd your love go? Where'd your love go? Where'd your love go? Where'd your love, baby? I ran into this girl, I said, "I'm tired of explaining" Man, this shit is draining But I'm not really allowed to be mad

Bitches want money stacks, I just want my percent She told me to hit the hole, I used to play running back You niggas be fumbling, don't you give 'em no gun again These bitches be flying out, yeah, 'cause money be coming in Said the money be coming in, the money be coming in The money be coming in, the money be coming in See you niggas just run your mouth, yeah My niggas, we run the city The money be coming in, the money be coming in Look, my bitch is on Tumblr, your bitch need a tummy tuck Since Jesus of Nazareth, the realest you've come across I be with killers just coming home They only hope is me and the Quran They only wish is for a new chain But they stuck up in the ankle bracelet I get the money stacked, see the moon's where it's sunny at And I move where the realest be And the quickest, see baby, you gettin' lapped Yeah, the DMV on the map That's a city, two states if you can count I'm as real as I say, I never lie So whenever I go, know I'm runnin' back Bitches want money stacks, I just want my percent She told me to hit the hole, I used to play running back You niggas be fumbling, don't you give 'em no gun again These bitches be flying out, yeah, 'cause money be coming in Said the money be coming in, the money be coming in The money be coming in, the money be coming in See you niggas just run your mouth, yeah My niggas, we run the city The money be coming in, the money be coming in These bitches want money stacks Me? I want a hundred stacks These bitches selling their soul Well, I want my money back She bounce it like jumping jacks, but she got a funny ass Look what them booty shots done to that That bitch need her money back, Lord She like the finer things, she said I sent her a diamond ring She say I buy her all kinds of things She lie about everything I put her on time out and everything I cut the bitch off like a thread of string These hoes'll say about anything 'Cause they know that y'all believe everything That's why I get high about everything All of this fog like the weather change Turn the strip club to a hurricane We got that cocaine, snow flurry gang And we do not play games 'bout money, mane She do something strange for money, mane Yeah, I used to play running back I turned that football to a money bag, I'm gone Bitches want money stacks, I just want my percent She told me to hit the hole, I used to play running back You niggas be fumbling, don't you give 'em no gun again These bitches be flying out, yeah, 'cause money be coming in Said the money be coming in, the money be coming in The money be coming in, the money be coming in See you niggas just run your mouth, yeah My niggas, we run the city The money be coming in, the money be coming in Balling, we balling, we balling Balling (Balling), hey darling (Hey darling) Sweet darling (Hey darling), you know we ballin' We balling, Wale, fuck with me Mula baby Yeah, Blue Moon, yeah We gon' ball all season, whole season and post-season For no reason, fuck with me