Lyrics:
fast
I'm a millionaire, dumbass
Top tier gear, my bae make a slut mad (Yeah)
I need one dance
Two tits one man two cheeks dump that
Bounce that (Wooh
with all that phony shit and gimmickin
Take me to the plug, I ain't goin' through no middleman
I'm tryna get the keys to the Beamer like I'm Beenie Man
don't even really like those
I don't really see me with a beenie no more
Mans not hot porque a soul ta cold
Nigga quer beef while I'll bone ya hoe
Better
bout switchin the gears
I know dat da hatas gon watch
But they ain't the man in the mirror
I know I'm surrounded by opps
But I like to keep all of em
Brand new sound and the space goes
Doosh
Step it up a gear and the place goes
Crowd so dense gonna make you
Push
Anybody fucking with The Hell goes
Doosh
Burner (Woo)
Burner
Burner
Burner
Really I ain't got no one left
I burn, Hot Wheels, new cars, I invest
Really I ain't got no one left
I smash, nitrox,
your gear ain't shit your jewels ain't shit
your kicks ain't shit nigga your whips ain't shit
Bobby you ain't shit nigga I'm the shit
Yeah
Its Mark Dwyer man
Nothing nice
They Know we a treat
Man is a boss I don't fret
Fresh off a jet
Yaadman gear all that I rep
They know I'm up
gear
All the damn comments telling me I suck
And I'm startin to believe em, wantin to give up
Won't achieve my goals by hidin in the muck
So I try
shit
Man it's fight or flight
Locked in real one
My Type it's like
When these bitches stop and stare I know that the gear is right
The money cleared
I
bullet)
Them man praying that we lose
See how all dem live to spite we
We done hear the news (yeah, bullet)
So we like fuck you too nigga
We ain't gotta
Let's shift gears for a minute
And talk about New York
City i actually get in
Arguments because people say
Nicki doesn't rep New York i say "What do
bruh we walking by that
Faith god is so good bruh come and
Get a taste, life without god man that's nothing but a waste god is so good bruh come and get
from
So I extend my hand to my man, screaming, "I'm on my way!"
Yes I rap but best believe
Them things still get wrapped by Papi, screaming, "It's
your gear ain't shit your jewels ain't shit
your kicks ain't shit nigga your whips ain't shit
Bobby you ain't shit nigga I'm the shit
Knuckle merchants and your bankers too
Must get up and learn those rules
Weather man and the crazy chief
One says sun and one says sleet
A.M.,
too
Must get up an' learn those rules
Weather man and the crazy chief
One says sun and one says sleet
A.M., the F.M. the P.M. too
Churning out that
Knuckle merchants and your bankers too
Must get up and learn those rules
Weather man and the crazy chief
One says sun and one says sleet
A.M.,
bankers, too
Must get up an' learn those rules
Weather man and the crazy chief
One says sun and one says sleet
A.M., the F.M. the P.M. too
Churning out
too
Must get up an' learn those rules
Weather man and the crazy chief
One says sun and one says sleet
A.M., the F.M. the P.M. too
Churning out that
It's been a helluva ride
It's been a long year baby
It's been a long year
Trying new thangs
Buying new gear
Eye on the rear
Fighting the mirrors
Fighting
guillotine
And in the place of its birth
Breeds a new Nazarene
Grind down the iron gears
Plunge the pike, work, work
With extinct human skills
all
And by the model of my vehicle
You know that I ball
E92, but '91 the year that Tyler was spawned
And if I crash
I'm owing wheels like I'm a Vaughn
We ride abide, the laws that we live by
Oh my, oh my, starving and trying to get by
But when a man dies, the next man rides
Ready for war with a four
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