[Verse 1: Josh Cortes]
Uh, watch her pants drop, I was like in my teens
Trynna get my head into wet dreams, big schemes
Hit her with the big crème, the ex-got a prob
Next to the quad, dust'em off like a God
Pretty boy in them loafers, shoulders big as them boulders
They big enough to let me land all them homers, shit
She said "I can't have the cake and eat it too"
I said "it's cake, baby, it's what I'm supposed to do
Now I'm on my Dalai Lama shit
Cause I'm driving around town on my Obama shit
Middle-class my ass, just to get a tank of gas
Had to run the Xbox up the street and pawn the shit
But, I'vе been getting a lot of scholarships
And I just love women, so I got a lot of lip
That's why thеy boyfriends don't like me
Always trynna fight me
They insecure and jealous most likely (shit, shit)
Uh, I know the game, I'm an expert
Tell me - "do you get enough pleasure?"
Homie I'm gone, showed up at the crib trynna bone
And I ain't fuck yet
The ex-won't put down his phone
God damn, L-Lord have mercy
Please, let me come through, you ain't gotta worry
You the wifey type, just look how she stunts that curtsy
So gentle I should be given gold medals (so gentle baby!)
Thrown rose petals on the bed, she in stilettos (hmm)
Wrinkling the sheets, got her singing falsetto (oooff)
Pepe Jeans and Dickys, can't believe we used to wear those
White folks looking at us like we're weirdos (shit)
Ha, but we was only kiddos
Too young to be in the club, pockets full of Skittles (boy)
Trynna get in the kitty was like trynna solve some riddles
Trynna own the city cause I got them credentials
This that good old fashion, seat belt un-fastened
All while the cars passing, my fingers just dancing
Ya borin'
I don't play, no relaxing, that's it and
That's why this chick so damn thick like a Kardashian
I'm not asking, baby I just need a favor
I'm in the streets with the fiends, I see danger
It's my nature, got her hooked like retailers
I ain't a player, baby, don't be a stranger
(oofff)
(I know you like this baby girl, tell me you like this shit)
Uh, my team major, we party like teenagers
I'm in the green range, baby I'm the green ranger
Damn!

[Interlude: Lil Wayne]
Yeah, yeah, yeah
I don't even like this beat but fuck it
I'ma only spit a few bars 'cause I don't like this beat, let's go

[Verse 2: Lil Wayne]
Uh, bitch I’m not old news, I’m more like gold shoes
She eat my whole dick, she like Whole Foods
They say I’m old school, but I dropped out
Drop ya body off, at a cop's house
They throwin' up them bricks, you better box out
My n***as got enough white to build Barack house
I got my drawers on, Sam Rothstein
.44 on my waist, Rick Ross jeans
I’ve been faded, stone wash jeans
New pussy, new money, New Orleans
50 up in that uzi, G-G-G-G-Unit
I murk you with that bitch, scratch the serial number, re-use it, uh
I’m from the N-O, stretch n***as out like limo’s
Uzi go zit-zit-zit-zit-zit-zit-zit, that's pimples, uh
I’m bout to go banana puddin’, hehe
You a dyke 'cause your man a pussy
Hit you from the blindside, no Sandra Bullock
Never bite the hand that feeds you
Always watch the hand that’s cookin'
Tunechi