| Okay! | 
| I’m all that with NBA wives
 | 
| Jock strap nice, they match the white ties
 | 
| Lou
 | 
| The mob warehouse, why you think the truck come to pick up more bologna
 | 
| Stella
 | 
| Front a hundred thousand mil', let you up and comers develop street cred
 | 
| I’m sleeping on you like that force field around the bed
 | 
| Silver Surfer, your girl like my balls
 | 
| They turn colors, now they burgundy
 | 
| IPhone, laby, I like the way your wife worry me
 | 
| I’m a regulator, I keep my hair cut low-key like Warren G
 | 
| Versace’s, get out the green Porsche
 | 
| You know I’m blind, I can’t see
 | 
| Using my stick to walk past MC’s
 | 
| I’m Donny Microphonse, tonight, I’m hitting your Amazon
 | 
| Ballroom, baby, no problem, I brought Hammerstein
 | 
| Hammerstein, Carnegie Hall, Radio City
 | 
| Madison Square, the Barclay Center, it’s all mine
 | 
| Hammerstein, Carnegie Hall, Radio City
 | 
| Madison Square, the Barclay Center, it’s all mine
 | 
| Paradise
 | 
| New York is a sport
 | 
| MVP, but I stay out the court
 | 
| , Range Rover horse
 | 
| 240 on the horse next to the bricks, young gunner to the boss
 | 
| I’m a metropolitan nigga, check my politic, nigga, I’m a politic, nigga
 | 
| Money and the power,, yay and the keys to the city
 | 
| Box seats, and my Yankee fitted, chicken box, get it
 | 
| Roof off, titties spillin out cause the milk all in it
 | 
| So soft, seats to the benches
 | 
| Love to perforate it, let the pussy breathe in it
 | 
| My reflection on the hood, your reflection on the dishes
 | 
| No pork, don’t talk, nigga, stop snitching
 | 
| Shot clock, white chalk, overtime, finished
 | 
| I’m bad religion, death in jewels
 | 
| Sacrilegious, gorilla monsoon
 | 
| Indigenous to the dark, I live on your fear and remain in your thoughts
 | 
| Blackburn necklace, keep bitches caught up
 | 
| Battle of the sexes, more for the slaughter
 | 
| Hey, 2 15's in the the water
 | 
| Uptown, Harlem World, Rich Porter
 | 
| Smack bitches with the dick, hit niggas with the mortar
 | 
| Mylar zip, ounces and quarters
 | 
| Wear a disguise, so I don’t get caught
 | 
| Eyes without a face, no reflection
 | 
| On the highway to hell or the staircase to heaven
 | 
| Living in the past, sleepwalking in the present
 | 
| Everyday’s a show, real life, no gimmick
 | 
| Money over hoes, I’m 'bout that business
 | 
| We straight wilding, like juvies on the island
 | 
| Caged up, so raise up, before I light the stage up
 | 
| Take caution to what I say
 | 
| Get with it, or get turned the fuck away
 | 
| Swift with the gift when I’m dropping my shit
 | 
| I do shows, collect dough, grab a ho, and then split
 | 
| I smoke that raw shit, you smoke that if
 | 
| I’m talking Denver nuggets, Portland dog shit
 | 
| Straight to the brain, spliffs make me sane
 | 
| Bitches give me brain to gain some fame
 | 
| Libido’s the name, the FCC6 to blame
 | 
| Cause I came to rearrange the game, with the spoken bar flow
 | 
| Haters copy, want to be me
 | 
| Come out and see me and realize it ain’t easy |