[Intro x2: Sean Garrett]
Seen you last night at the club for the first time
In about a year, damn, girl I
The look on your face didn't say that things were going the way
That you planned when I saw you for the last time

[Hook: Sean Garrett]
Know sometimes you wish that you was with me (ahh)
If we had a baby, what it would be (ahh)
Is your bank account, empty (ahh)
You can call me babe, anytime

[Verse 1: Sean Garrett]
Ain't gon' lie (ain't gon' lie) you ran up, I ain't expect to see you
You start talking (talking) saying shit ain't straight with him
You bring it up (saying) you miss the way it used to be
And I ain't gone lie, but I moved on so far from here
You asking me (honestly) I ain't got no answer
Is it true that I'm blamed for that? I ain't got no answer
If I told you all my setbacks, all the shit I went through
I just buried my momma, two months after I caught you
Hey, you heard I got that check
Hey, and I ain't trying to look back
I hope that maybe you chose to take a damn good care
I ain't wish you no better but that ain't none of my business, no
[Hook] (x2)

[Verse 2: Quavo]
I know that you wish that you had a young n***a like me
I know that you sad
I know you praying the Lord for a n***a like me
You missing the shopping sprees
You missing the diamonds all in your rings
I pull up in Jags and Rovers and Bentleys
I know that you miss the front seat
Your bitches, they asking about me
Wanna know what a young n***a do
Cause the see my girl in that red dress
And they say that could be you, in it
Everytime they see Quavo, they say that boy pursue
(Like a real) Just look at yourself in the mirror
I know you wish I was there
That Porshe, Panamera
You know that car was your favorite
My momma she told me you crazy
I know you hate that I made it
So many chains, look like slavery
I hope I make you go crazy
Throw a hundred dollars for your step-baby
You can have that old ass Mercedes
[Hook] (x2)

[Verse 3: Takeoff]
God damn, back then
Your momma, she wasn't fucking with me
Taking a trip out the city, go quick on that Brittney
She thicker than Jiffy
The Louis, the Gucci, the Prada, the Fendi
Versace, and Givenchy, know lil' mama gon' miss me
I was the Santa on Christmas
She talking about having my baby
But told me stop whipping them babies
I told her you crazy
When you see me pulling up in that drop top, I made it
She calling my phone, she come in my home
Knock on that booty, I'm gone
Met a bitch, said her name Nia Long
Smoking that good, ching chong
Came a long way, neighborhood star
And I'm on the top of Worldstar
Back then, n***a, looking at a star
Now a n***a shine with the stars
Red bottom got blood on the floor
Metta World Peace, got that elbow
She won't stop calling my phone
She hear me everyday on the radio
[Hook] (x2)