They Ready.
Hol’ up, but don’t forget about Compton nigga
One for the money, two for the show
Three for no limit and the rest for death row
That means I been bout it bout it and this is the realist shit I ever wrote
And if anyone ever doubt it then they are the loudest of liars I know
I only desire to blow, she only desire to blow
And I hope that my dick is a whistlely flute, and that’s not the instrumental
Now pick up my coat
You let that motherfucker drag like RuPaul, I’ll drag your ass to the floor
Bitch, I can admit, I’m a recovered addict, paraphernalia that is
Telling the doctor I’m sick, head doctor I’m needing your lips, yea
Proper analogy for it, if I can afford it then I won’t ignore it, clear
Cop me a palace and Porsche and right when I floor it that’s when I switch gears
Living my life on Uranus, uh, keeping one foot in your anus, uh
The other foot all on your neck, repeatedly stomp ‘til I break it, uh
Bitch I’m demanding respect, these bitches is telling me take it
DJ Khaled, even if I had callus, holding the torch ain’t no challenge
Ain’t it
