[Chorus] OK, b*tch, watch the AP glisten! (Look) Talkin' big money, but you yutes don't listen! (Nah!) Out in VIP, pop corks, no friction, Step inside the club, got 'em all addicted! (Woo!) OK, b*tch! (OK!) OK, b*tch! (Yeah!) Stackin' up the blue notes, runnin' through the pitch! (Phew) OK, b*tch! (OK!) OK, b*tch! (Go!) Bleed the f*ckin' beat till the bank account twitch! (Brrr!) [Verse 1] Walk in the spot, wrist ice like December, (Brr) Custom Maybach, stitched leather to remember. Remember back when man was starvin' on the block? Now I got the cashier sweatin' at the lock. (Phew) B*tch want the champagne, b*tch want the flight, Cheffin' up the revenue, we ballin' through the night. (Woo) Got an Audemars Piguet sitting on the left, While the right hand dirty from the blood, sweat, and death. Yeah, I came from the mud, left a opp in the dirt, Put a hole through his chest, watch him soak in his shirt! (F*ckin' rat!) Now it’s fine dining, caviar, raw steak, B*tch, I make a hundred thousand off a single mistake! (Ayy) Got the bad B twerkin' on the leather couches, (Twerk) Smokin' on the loud pack, countin' in the houses. They were talkin' crazy till we backed out the steel, Now they runnin' like a cunt when the lead gets real! (Bap-bap!) [Chorus] OK, b*tch, watch the AP glisten! (Look) Talkin' big money, but you yutes don't listen! (Nah!) Out in VIP, pop corks, no friction, Step inside the club, got 'em all addicted! (Woo!) OK, b*tch! (OK!) OK, b*tch! (Yeah!) Stackin' up the blue notes, runnin' through the pitch! (Phew) OK, b*tch! (OK!) OK, b*tch! (Go!) Bleed the f*ckin' beat till the bank account twitch! (Brrr!) [Verse 2] Look— Inside my head, it's a war zone, fam, Countin' up a million while I'm grippin' on a jam. (Grip) Sleepless nights, got the ghosts in the brain, Tryna wash away the gore with a river of champagne! (Drown it!) Yeah, they see the iced chains, see the velvet seats, Don't see the f*ckin' body bags left in the streets. Slice a snitch tongue out, leave him slumped on the floor, Now I'm at the penthouse, locked behind the door. Cartier frames just to hide my red eyes, (Look) Livin' like a king while the fake bredrin dies. Guns in the wardrobe, racks in the safe, Put a blade through his jaw if he talk about my place. (Cheffed) B*tch, I'm a phenomenon, sitting on a throne, Two-tone Richard Mille, make 'em leave me alone. I was broke, I was cold, now I buy out the store, OK, b*tch, what the f*ck you talkin' to me for? (What? Huh?) [Bridge] (Ayy, ayy, ayy) Money on the table, blood on the floor, (Yeah) B*tch, I want the estate, b*tch, I want more! (More!) We ain't stoppin' till the whole f*ckin' clip unload! (Brrr-bap-bap!) [Chorus] OK, b*tch, watch the AP glisten! (Look) Talkin' big money, but you yutes don't listen! (Nah!) Out in VIP, pop corks, no friction, Step inside the club, got 'em all addicted! (Woo!) OK, b*tch! (OK!) OK, b*tch! (Yeah!) Stackin' up the blue notes, runnin' through the pitch! (Phew) OK, b*tch! (OK!) OK, b*tch! (Go!) Bleed the f*ckin' beat till the bank account twitch! (Brrr!)
