Hello, can I speak to a, a, yeah, you know who you are
Look, you had no idea what ya dealing with
Something on some of this realist shit, something
Pop champagne, I 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

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

I paid for them titties, get your own
It ain't safe in the city, watch the throne
You say I care more about them basqion's, basquiats
She learning a new word, it's yacht

Blew the world up as soon as I hit the club with her
Too Short called, told me, I fell in love with her
Seen by actors, ball players and drug dealers
And some lesbians that never loved niggas

Twisted love story, True Romance
Mary Magdalene from a pole dance
I'm a freak, huh, rock star 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

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

Silly little vixen, mixes 'til morning
Not swerving, oh, yeah
Swear you never strolled on a bottle of that potion
Stop motion, ooh, yeah

Go harder than a nigga for a nigga go figure
Told me keep my own money if we ever did split up
How can somethin' so gangsta be so pretty in pictures?
With jeans and a blazer and some Louboutin slippers

Uh, Picasso was alive he woulda made her
That's right nigga, Mona Lisa can't fade her
I mean Marilyn Monroe, she's quite nice
But why you all the pretty icons always all white

Put some colored girls in the MOMA
Half these broads ain't got nothing on Wyldna
Don't make me bring Thelma in it
Bring Halle, Bring Penelope and Selma in it

Back to my Beyonces
You deserve 3 stacks for the Andre
Call Larry Gagosian, you belong in museums
You belong in Vintage clothes watching the whole building

You belong with niggas who used to be known for dope dealing
You too dope for any of those civilians
Now shoot trigga, stop looking at her tits
Get ya own dog, ya heard, that's my bitch

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