Intro

Yeah
We in the championship
We was down 3-1
Yeah
(I can feel it coming in the air tonight)
Feel it
Champions of the United States (Oh Lord)
(And I've been waiting for
This moment for all my life)
Yeah
Turn me up Cruz (Oh lord)

Bombin' on any of them niggas
That want the smoke (Woo)
Nigga, this a big boy Phantom
This ain't a Ghost (It ain't)
Had to take the way from them
Niggas and now they toast (Fuck 'em)
They ain't have no sympathy for
Me when I was broke
Amen, amen
Lord forgive me (Lord forgive me)
For all my sins (All my sins)
Took so many riches just to
Get a Benz (Get a Benz)
Pray for my niggas (All my niggas)
All my friends (Yeah)
In the trenches, warring with killas
We been getting it in
32 shots in my new Glock (Yeah)
Niggas wanna hit me like I'm 2Pac (Yeah)
Bad bitch fuck me in my
Gucci tube socks (Yeah)
'Member when I spit my
Re-up on a oowop, woah
Your favorite rapper a mumble rapper
Walk up in this bitch, a bunch of
Killers and humble trappers
I can go to Hollywood
To court in this jungle action
With niggas that'll smoke you
Go and murder your brother after
Whoa, big dog, nigga, I'm a big dog
Streets said they need that dope
They having withdrawals
I put on my yellow diamonds
When I'm pissed off
I'm so rich that I can't even
Fuck a bitch raw, whoa
Do you know the feeling? (Do you?)
Being irritated 'cause you
Gotta count a million
All this fucking money
I ain't got no time for chilling
We too rich to look like this to
All that killing and drug dealing
You my nigga, I fuck with you
We gon' thug it out
Say it's beef? We going to war, nigga
Let's slug it out
Be back, whoop, we at your door
Blood in your fucking house
I heard your daddy was a rat
So you a fucking mouse, nigga
Pouring champagne 'cause
All my niggas dead
If they ain't in the graveyard
Then they in the feds
I give a fuck if that crown heavy
Put it on my head
Take it to the jeweller, bust it
Down before I wear it (Yeah)
Whew, 'cause I'm a king just
Martin Luther (Martin Luther)
I ain't a hater, fuck my bitch
Nigga, I salute ya (Salute)
I be flying jet and chopper
Llike that shit was Uber
We finally made it out them trenches nigga
Hallelujah, whoa
Balling like a hot boy
Diamonds dancing on me more
Than JB Blocboy
I'm a boss, I'm the one that
Call the shots, boy (Shots)
You a thottie, I won't cuff you like
A cop whore, no way (Like a cop)
Ooh, I just cashed out
How the fuck you turn a
Bando to a glass house?
How the fuck you get a two t
T four and bail out?
Got your favorite Instagram
Bitch with her ass out, hey
Make her touch her toes
Make her touch her toes (Touch it, touch it)
Run up like a milli' off a couple shows (Run it up)
Trappin' at the Waldorf
We just fuckin' hoes
And they lovin' that Chanel
They gon' sell they souls (Yeah)
Running through the gutter
I ain't never bowl (Running)
You would think this Wheel Of Fortune
How we selling O's (Yeah)
Plug just called, he got another load
He know I'ma get them sold
Leaning off that perc'
Young nigga still fucking all the
Baddest bitches on earth
When I'm off in them trenches
I'm a hot boy like Turk
Gun shot is itching in that Glock boy, that's work
You get popped pussy, no twerk, oh
Nigga, we trying to make that
Money machine break ('Chine break)
Shoot up out that van like
It's teammate (Teammate)
Nigga, we used to trap up out
That green gate (Gate)
80s baby, they cooked crack
Up in my DNA (Oh)
Ooh, scary hours
Walk outside the lear
They gon' let confetti shower
You knew what it was when they let me out it
Living like the plug, nigga
I ain't selling powder, now way
Big bag, talking Santa Claus
Got 3 hoes off that molly ripping panties off
Flying private to Dubai, we off the Xanny bars
Ooh, scary hours, turn the cameras off, please



Credits
Writer(s): Shawn Carter, Chris Martin
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

Link