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9 A.m. In Dallas

Yeah, uh, yeah

These are my one St. Thomas flows

Me and my niggas and some Madonna hoes

That look just like virgins

But trust they down to go

Discussin' life and all our common goals

Smart kids that smoke weed, honor roll

Look how the champagne diamonds flow

Fine dining, pour another another glass when the wine is lowI'm in the crib stackin' money from here to the ceilin'

Whatever it is I got is clearly appealin'

These other rappers gettin' that inferior feelin'

I hope you feel it in your soul spiritual healin'

Take a look at yourself the mirror's revealin'

If you ain't got it you ain't got it the theory is brilliantPeople ask how music is goin' I heard it pays

I just came off makin' 2 million in 30 days

Damn I guess it does what the message was

Sometimes I feel I be spendin' my money just because

But Weezy I'm just out here reppin' us

'Til I get to shake the hand of the man that's blessin' usYeah, I know these niggas miss the mean lyrics

Kush got the room smellin' like teen spirit

I asked kindly if no-one out here would bring defeat up

Until I lose, for now I'm the game's single leader

I fly private so no-one tells me to bring my seat up

And book a suite when me and your favorite singer meet upWho you like, tell me who it is

I'mma make sure that that women is the next one on my list

I should call it a night but fuck it I can't resist

This one is for all my niggas from my city tryin' to diss

Without a response from me you really fail to exist

And I love to see you fail that feelin' there is the shit

I swear, aghh pussy nigga get your bread up

Enjoy the seat that the stewardess just forced your ass to let up

Why your scary ass lookin' down pick your head up

No-one told you your disguise is the most ridiculous gettup

With nose plugs in now I can smell a set up

So your just wastin' your time your just only makin' me betterYeah I try to tell them don't judge me because you heard stuff

Chase N. Cash that's my brother from the Surf Club

Damn that nigga always kept it so hood

Back when we would smoke good at the Oakwoods

And have girls fall through like coins in a couch

Now we just fuckin' all the bitches they warned us about

Scared for the first time everything has clicked

What if I dont really do the numbers they predict

Considerin' the fact that I'm the one that they just picked

To write a chapter in history this shit has got me sick

But if I really do it don't expect to get a split

'Cause this truly is some shit I don't expect y'all to getI'm nervous but I'mma kill it, 'cause they 'bout to let the realest team in

Throwin' up in a huddle nigga Willie Beamen

We're still throwin' touchdown passes

In tortoise frame glasses, hopin' that someone catch it

People say that old Drake, we startin' to miss it

But they need to be a little more specific

Man is this what y'all want? In my best Chris Tucker impression

Ducking your questions, fuck your suggestions

Money gets all of my love and affection

Cars all black like the cover of Essence

I'm allergic to coming in second but I never sneeze

Y.M.O.E. nigga, yeahThis want y'all want

Octobers Very Own

Young Money

ATF

Thank Me Later in this bitch wasssup

Free Weezy in this bitch wassup

June 15th in this bitch wassup

Songwriters

MATTHEW SAMUELS, AUBREY DRAKE GRAHAM, MATTHEW BURNETTEPublished by

Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Universal Music Publishing Group Song Discussions is protected by U.S. Patent 9401941. Other patents pending.

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