Imperial High

The imperial

You know?

(Maybach Music)

Money through the roof, it got it falling through the sky

Got me counting money on a Percocet high

Perpetuate petty **** awaiting my demise

Noose around my neck, you think a young **** kind

Lookin' deep into my eyes, you wanna see me rise

Who was born commitin' sins? You better watch the signs

King of all kings, black Rothschilds

One **** from the South a get you crossed out

So fuck where you from and fuck what you sold

Watch how you come or watch how it go

I diss who you fear 'cause I knew they'd fold

And now I'm richer than them ****, I could do the most

Money through the roof, it's falling from the sky

Counting money on a Percocet high

I watch how you speak, I listen to your tone

The watches that you wear, this different time zones

Crispy calamari, tears for the foes

Murder undercover, strip from your clothes

Coupes for the curbs, suicide doors

Suits to be served for the drug lords

Clubs full of haters, tips for the waiters

Body count, AK-47's made us

Bal Harbour shops, ninety in a knot

In Design District, boy, you see me at the top

Collins Ave, get the coco from the coast guard

Coast clear, let's reward the ones who cook raw

Dolce & Gabbana buttoned to the neck

Still hoping that Your Honor let the jury rest

It's buttoned to the neck

Praying that Your Honor let the jury rest

All I wanna do is watch the ship float

As the sunset, I'm talking big dope

Money through the roof, it's falling through the sky

Spent two hundred for the coupe, they wanna shoot inside

Fuck wearing vests, I knew they wouldn't fit

I'm too slow to run, that'd get me flipped

They want me broke, but a **** rich

I'm talking real money, and not just **** rich

Rap beefs'll get you **** buried back east

At least, bitch **** better act easy

I bought the restaurant, she sold your metaphors

I held my **** down, you hit the panic doors

I'm not impressed by the paintings on these ****' walls

But will he really draw when in amidst the war?

I do it for my homies up against the ropes

Twenty years in this, talking to a ghost

Money through the roof, it's falling through the sky

My homie in the pen' until the day he die

I put it on his books and give it to his wife

He told me not to visit and to live my life

Money through the roof, it's falling through the sky

All these broke **** gotta run inside

Goyard luggage, I just wanna fly

I pray my **** get to see that other side

Hundred bricks a boy out in St. Croix

For the big belly ass rude boy

Wah'Gwan, Double M-M-G, man

(Maybach Music)

Chaa, brrt

(Hahaha)