[Produced By: Jeff Bhasker, Kanye West & Q-Tip]

[Intro: Kanye West]
Uh
Hello, can I speak to, uh
Uh
Yeah, you know who you are, look
You had no idea what ya dealing with
Something on some this realest shit
Pop champagne, I'll give you a sip
'Bout to go dumb, how come?
Yeah, that's my bitch
That's my bitch
Sh-shorty right there? That's my bitch
That's my bitch

[Chorus: Elly Jackson & Kanye West]
I've been waiting for a long, long time
Just to get off and throw my hands up high
And live my life, and live my life
Just to get off and throw my hands up high (Yeah)

[Verse 1: Kanye West]
I paid for them titties, get your own
It ain't safe in the city, watch the throne
She say I care more about them basquions
Basquiats, she learning a new word, it's yacht
Blew the world up soon as I hit the club with her
Too Short called, told me I fell in love with her
Seat by actors, ball players, and drug dealers
And some lesbians that never loved n***as
Twisted love story, True Romance
Mary Magdalene from a pole dance
I'm a freak, huh? Rockstar life
The second girl with us, that's our wife
Hey, boys and girls, I got a new riddle
Who's the new old perv that's tryna play second fiddle?
No disrespect, I'm not tryna belittle
But my dick worth money, I put Monie in the middle
[Chorus: Elly Jackson & Kanye West]
I've been waiting for a long, long time (Where she at? In the middle)
Just to get off and throw my hands up high
And live my life, and live my life
Just to get off and throw my hands up high, high, high, high

[Bridge: Justin Vernon]
Swilling little licks and mixes 'til mornin'
I'm yearnin', ooh, yeah
Could I maybe have a little dab of your potion?
Stop motion, ooh, yeah

[Verse 2: Jay-Z]
Go harder than a n***a for a n***a, go figure
Told me keep my own money if we ever did split up
How could somethin' so gangster be so pretty in pictures?
Ripped jeans and a blazer and some Louboutin slippers
Uh, Picasso was alive, he would've made her
That's right, n***a, Mona Lisa can't fade her
I mean Marilyn Monroe, she's quite nice
But why all the pretty icons always all white?
Put some colored girls in the MoMA
Half these broads ain't got nothing on Willona
Don't make me bring Thelma in it
Bring Halle, bring Penélope and Salma in it, uh
Back to my Beyoncés
You deserve three stacks, word to André
Call Larry Gagosian, you belong in mo-seums
You belong in vintage clothes, crushing the whole building
You belong with n***as who used to be known for dope dealing
You too dope for any of those civilians
Now shoo, children, stop looking at her tits
Get your own dog, ya heard? That's my bitch
[Chorus: Elly Jackson]
I've been waiting for a long, long time
Just to get off and throw my hands up high
And live my life, and live my life
Just to get off and throw my hands up high, high, high, high