Fitted Cap

(Beat Billionaire) [Intro: Rick Ross] You know I stick to the script Twenty-million dollar nigga, but I do it like this (M-M-M-Maybach Music, Maybach Music) My Jordans high-top, snapback fitted cap (huh!) My Jordans high-top, snapback fitted cap (huh!) [Hook: Rick Ross] My Jordans high-top, snapback fitted cap My Jordans high-top, snapback fitted cap The Rolls-Royce, it’s all white Foamposites, the LeBrons, I’m fuckin’ wit’ the Spikes My Jordans high-top, snapback fitted cap (whoo!) My Jordans high-top, snapback fitted cap (whoo!) The Rolls-Royce, it’s all white Foamposites, the LeBrons, I’m fuckin’ wit’ the Spikes [Verse 1: Wale] (How can I not talk big? I got to) (Wale, look, yeah, uh) Ferrari mikes, bitch, I’m on my car show My chick black and white, she ain’t no dime, that bitch a Concord 11 Know I’m reppin’ this, shoot and I don’t ever miss The coupe I’m in is rented, I ain’t wit’ all that commitment shit P-R-Ps is proper, couple Gs when I’m shoppin’ My girls and my SBs, got a thing for pink boxes Shout out Frankie the Butcher, shout out Mishka in Brooklyn That’s some nigga from 10.deep ATL, I’m wit’ the cooker I ain’t e’en tryin’, fool, ho, I ball like private school You bammas like Hyperstrikes, your wifey sleep outside of you And NT my niggas, you know just we just need more shit and It’s ironic how I drop some dough when I got them Homer Simpsons Look, pine green Foams, they may never see the store Got LeBron Entourages like Maverick and Richie Paul Bitch, I ball, ho, you lame, look at my Laneys, switchin’ lanes Look at my 9s, look at my Blazers, look at my 4s, cut wit’ laser Look at my whore, that is your lady Look at my flo’, makin’ y’all crazy Makin’ y’all sick, y’all cannot tame me Lexus drive me, Maybach pay me Salute [Hook] [Verse 2: Meek Mill] Yo, I said I’m swaggin’ out in my Cool Greys No LL, but these cool J's And my wrist froze, but I’m cool sha’ Like a bald head, I’m too paid I’m too blazed, and I’m too high George Kush, the whole crew high Wrong move and that tool fly Better calm that ass like woo-sah It’s MMG, MOB, young nigga, I been OG Walk around wit’ like 10 on me, that 5-7, that fen’ on me Don’t grin on me wit’ them long stares You ain’t God then there's no fear Big money, all the hoes here, HD, I see it so clear We jeweled out and we racked up Phantom beep when it back up Big bullets, look like a Mack truck Shooters ride wit’ that Mac tucked I’m a Bad Boy, bitch, ask Puff Sip Cîroc it's my last cup On this shit, I can’t stand up Catch a case and I'll man up This Rozay, Wale, Gunplay, and that nigga Pill In Brazil, and this shit is real, got bad hoes and that Whip Appeal One week and we get the deal, one day and I fucked the bitch My Levis, they 501, my snapback is hella bent, ha (Hook) [Verse 3: J. Cole] Fresh-ass nigga, no wonder why them hoes be open That’s that nigga, so what’d I say? They okey-dokin’ How you figga? You fuckin’ wit’ me? I hope he jokin’ I’m witcha girl, you home alone, bitch you Macauley Culkin I’m oviedosin’, ay, homie, Cole be smokin’ Then put my ashes on you niggas, bet you gon’ need lotion I’m slowly roastin’, heatin’ up, so you know we toastin’ Fuck hoes wit’ no emotion, fade away like Kobe postin’ Out in Sweden, like ain’t shit that you can’t tell us Lord, forgive me, as a kid, I used to look at niggas jealous ‘Cause uh, they had them Js, and my mama wouldn’t cop ‘em Can you blame her? Hundred dollars for them bitches want a option Now we livin’ much better, nigga, pay whatever Rock them bitches once then forgot about ‘em forever My kicks like my chick, I don’t need to know the numbers You just need to know I’m comin’, I’ll kill you niggas this summer Cole... Cole, World [Hook]