Woah, woah (We The Best Music) Woah, woah, woah Yeah, woah, woah (Another one, DJ Khaled) I got fake friends givin' me hugs I got record labels givin' me dubs You can't book me at clubs Police hate me, white fans show me love I just gave away bikes with a judge I grew up in the mud Legal money, I got rich from workin' I give back to my hood on purpose When you make it to the top, you know them rumors gon' surface Know you talk behind my back 'cause your ass always be nervous Everything private on the jet, we got curtains (Uh) Thirty thousand feet and this bitch bust out twerkin' I ain't from New Orleans, but I know that you heard me I don't play tennis, but the models, they serve me Feel like I'm that nigga, but plenty women done curved me Know my worth, I gave myself that many women didn't deserve me Trusted you, gave you my heart, and you did nothin' but hurt me But one thing 'bout them tables, they just don't stop turning One thing 'bout them tables, they just don't stop Yeah, one thing 'bout this money, it just won't stop Heart inside the trenches, I can't go pop We make street records and they go pop Still stand on business even though I'm rich Niggas out of pocket, grab the pool stick She don't get her purse, then she gon' throw a fit But she ride me like a rodeo, no bullshit I own a lot of homes, I got good deeds Dottin' all my I's and crossin' all my T's Lookin' at my children, all I see is me You know it's different when you responsible for how somebody breathe Make sure that they eat 'cause I'm a hustler I don't believe in ghosts, but he's a buster Top shotta, the streets know how many niggas we done roughed up Ferrari one-point-two, remember ridin' in a pluck-pluck Forty million a year, this shit right here way past lucked up