Music Video

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Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
DJ Khaled
DJ Khaled
Vocals
Jadakiss
Jadakiss
Vocals
Fabolous
Fabolous
Vocals
Fat Joe
Fat Joe
Vocals
Busta Rhymes
Busta Rhymes
Vocals
Kent Jones
Kent Jones
Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
DJ Khaled
DJ Khaled
Songwriter
Kent Jones
Kent Jones
Songwriter
Jason Phillips
Jason Phillips
Songwriter
John Jackson
John Jackson
Songwriter
Joseph Cartagena
Joseph Cartagena
Songwriter
Trevor Smith
Trevor Smith
Songwriter
Andre Lyon
Andre Lyon
Songwriter
Marcello Valenzano
Marcello Valenzano
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Cool NDre
Cool NDre
Producer
DJ Khaled
DJ Khaled
Producer
Qolorsound
Qolorsound
Producer

Lyrics

[Verse 1]
Pat 'em down, count the money, let 'em see the work, yeah
That's the definition of a major key alert
Another 'nother gotta die, won't be the first
Won't be the last, all we see is cash
Your real story don't match what you rappin' 'bout (Liar)
So keep the movies in, stop actin' out (Cut)
And I ain't talking 'bout no watch, or no cars, neither
Everything will get copped at Allah's leisure
Was a crack monster, I had the hard fever
Switch from the bald head to the dark Caesar
Used to be the capsules, now they love the plastics
I ain't tryna get caught up in this thug-rap shit (Never)
Rather be bumper-to-bumper in drug traffic
Cash on deck whenever the plug ask, kid
You don't sweat the small things, they become drastic
Next thing is cremation or a casket
Fuck fallin' back, I need all of that
I need my name in the cocaine almanac, Jada
Real dope boy, put me in the hall of smack
Went to job interviews, they ain't call us back
Either way, I ain't never evil (Never)
Why do you think the streets love me? I ain't never leave 'em
Heart stops, but the words are forever breathin' (Forever)
You hatin' 'cause we the best, find a better reason
[Verse 2]
Look, first thing first, don't you ever play yourself (Ever)
Oh, another thing, I ain't ever play myself (Never)
Even when they all changed up, I stayed myself (It's me)
Did what worked for me, then bossed up, and paid myself
See I'm showing the Piguet off, gave the Rollie a day off (Chill)
Still got that work, I don't know about no layoffs (No)
Team still ballin' so I guess we in the playoffs (Swish)
Team full of baddies, all my bitches in a slayoffs
See we be in the party wasted, no part of fake shit
Nothin' but love 'round me, Cartier bracelets
I feel like Frank White walkin' into Arty Clay shit
You **** got fat while everybody starved
My city don't sleep, I ain't ever noddin' off
When you're in the Benz, it piss everybody off
So I ain't stall, I do me, I ain't y'all
This New York, ****, let 'em hang, giant balls
Odell Beckham, respect him, you can't check him (You can't)
Blindside hoes hit me when I don't expect 'em
Then I hit 'em with the curve from the major league (Hold up)
Gotta wait your turn, that's a major key
[Verse 3]
Mami yellin' I'm the greatest
Back to back with the slow cum
In the lane, I got her so strung, I don't even know her
Every night I meet a new wife
Now ask your wife what this dick like
Balmain Joe, every time you see, a **** flee
Mr. Officer, I was only grabbin' ID
Mami only listen to Romeo
Wild cowboy, I be speakin' through the yayo
'Bout to let the cans go, whoa
Fuck your bitch and let your mans know, so, yeah
Now it's the Don in the Dawn, couple laughs in the Uber
Only drivin' Uber cause I'm franchised in Cuba
This is big money talk and you tied to the sideline
Brons, Calabrini, **** always tryna high-five
Gotta stay away from day driftin', all sauce
Every day Vera Wang, ****, cloth talk
[Verse 4]
(The conglomerate)
Now I'm takin' over everything like that's my callin'
Wakin' up in pussy like beautiful Sunday mornings
Now we swimmin' in the money like a line of dolphins
Prepare for killin', now please line up all of the coffins
(Closed casket, ****)
Think we playin'? **** think it's funny?
Pop you in your shit, brotha, now make room for the money (Move)
If you don't make room, I'll beat a **** past painful
Make a fool of yourself, I'll beat you past shameful (God damn)
I get this bread and shine like an angel
One of the last with bars, you **** better be grateful (Thank you so much)
I diddy bop and drop on you ****
I count bread and take it to the top on you **** (Mountain top)
Blah, blah, blah, blah, you sound alike, my **** (Blah, blah)
But when I do it, I finesse, I got it locked, my **** (Lock it down)
I gave you new brand shit, fuck you gon' do?
And know we love the boom-bap, oh yeah, we do this too (Yeah)
Fuck with the realer side, oh, you against us, ****?
You better run and hide, until I'm finished, ****
Don't play yourself
Play yourself and lay yourself dead in a casket
Pray yourself, end in a basket
Hate yourself 'cause you ain't ask if
You could possess you a heater
Or you could be you a leader for the people
Talk a lot, I've seen the truth like Sevyn Streeter
Don't you ever play yourself
[Verse 5]
I saw a lot of **** fade out right after I put my tape out
I offered to help you shape up, I see that you'd rather flake out
Sellin' stories on them tracks that nobody can seem to make out
That's why I keep a good head and shoulders, to keep all the flakes out
Seen a lot of singles chart on and off during the climb up
I bet if I had the clippers, they'd prolly all have a line up
You worried 'bout your followers, so hurt when I follow up
It's the ones with the most pride end up bein' the swallowers
Fuck a beat for a verse when I could do all three
No pop artist, but pop is what you rappers do call me
A lot of washed out **** tryna find hope in
I'm just tryna raise a son like my blinds open
I know the hood well, but glad I ain't stuck in the streets
I'm pop chartin', but hood **** got my song on repeat
I'm still loaded with illest ammo up under the seat
I'm playin' hopscotch with all the charts up under my feet
While you do it for the 'Gram, I do it for my Grammy
Fuck a gold trophy, I'm talkin' my mom's mammy
You gotta finish bigger than you start
Not fall victim to bench stories, you ain't even part of at all
Start from the bottom or, oh, please, don't start at all
I build a ship just to survive my own flood, I feel like Noah
'Cause all he had was little rocks, an ark an saw
Road to riches, I'm still in gear while you park your car
Your baby wanna get nailed in the Sprinter Lexus
Text back and told her, "Please be hammered so you can sex us"
My arm strong, if Louisiana, then tell her Texas
And if it's not immediate, then don't even send a message
FYI, I'll be free round two or three
And two things you gotta be, uh, New Orleans
I'm an organ donor, I'm alive with no heart in me
So never say my name in vain, 'cause, bitch, here's no arteries
Jones
Written by: Andre Lyon, Daryl Kent Jones, Eric Kovacs, Jason Phillips, Joe Cartagena, John Jackson, Khaled Khaled, Marcello Valenzano, Trevor Smith
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