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Right here in the game, swear I'ma win Fresh out the pen, ain’t going back there again My baby mama no drama, said she don't need me to spend Told her just cop the car seat and I'ma buy you the Benz (Skrrt-skrrt) Too real to pretend, this mod got me on ten This a big boy clock, I call my watch Big Ben Ya’ll fight for dollars and cents like y'all ain't got no sense Niggas killing to live, like would it kill you to live? If you diss, get mopped, I clean up my shit My lil' bro got shot, I felt like I got hit All my dogs brought sticks, told 'em I got this Gotta take those risks, we abide by this I got Danny Phantom and Sauce Boy on the drums, bitch Come with it, smart nigga, but I'm dumb rich Yeah, them niggas hatin', but the bad bitches love this Thug shit, I could fuck her slow and make her cum quick (Yeah) Hit the studio, I came straight from the YSL fashion show Word to Anthony Vaccarello, we skipped the after, though I get this cash to flow, models asking, "Who has the blow?" Uppers and downers, can't tell if I’m moving fast or slow She just took acid, just kicked in Got the big face Rollie, call my watch Big Ben Zero to sixty in three, this a big boy Benz Black on black, I whipped the Batmobile, it must be him Skrrt-skrrt-skrrt-skrrt, skrrt-skrrt-skrrt-skrrt Letras de cancionesI’m killing 'em when I’m in my 'Rari, feel like a hearse My garage look like the Jay Leno lot, your feelings hurt I threw her ten, she put some new plastic under her shirt, look It's just a gesture, you're welcome, look, it’s my pleasure Put a Birkin on her dresser, it's like she discovered treasure Plus the YSL clutch, really, it took no effort I'm Curry in the clutch, look, I dominate under pressure, yeah Burning cash, wonder where it all goes Money like the Chapos and Pablos Paper six feet, fucking tall hoes This watch don't tick-tock, but it's all froze Got the big face Rollie call my watch Big Ben Got the big face Rollie call my watch Big Ben Got the big face Rollie call my watch Big Ben Call my watch Big Ben, call my watch Big Ben (Yeah) My piece she put her tongue on, ain't fucking 'less the glove's on I'm stuck inside her head just like a love song, no doubt Been one of the best out, your music got me stressed out 'Cause they ain't got no bars like they fresh out, big clout Talk about the best, you got me fucked up if I'm left out The only white boy in the world who could bring the west out Girls at my shows on shoulders, she pulls her breasts out On her boyfriend, he's miserable, feeling left out Last night we got high as shit, almost feel like I died a bit I just fucked a stranger, I asked her name while she ride my dick Rumors spreading quick, I tell her to chill and quiet it Rock and roll stories I'll save the rest for the biopic (Yeah) Burning cash, wonder where it all goes Money like the Chapos and Pablos Paper six feet, fucking tall hoes This watch don't tick-tock, but it's all froze Got the big face Rollie call my watch Big Ben Got the big face Rollie call my watch Big Ben Got the big face Rollie call my watch Big Ben Call my watch Big Ben, call my watch Big Ben From Letras Mania