Released: August 15, 2010

Featuring: Rick Ross

Songwriter: Rick Ross

Producer: Lex Luger

[Intro]
Shout out to all my real niggas who run wild
Ain't nothing changed
But the 'rarri, the Lambo, the Bentley, the Maybach, the Phantom, the Aston, the Spyker
The Seven Trey, the seven deuce, the seven one, the seven fours

[Verse 1]
I go hard in the mothafuckin' paint, nigga
Touch eight figures, stuff it in the bank, nigga, uh
Order twenty bottles of the Rozay
Fuck first week, bitch, I ordered Moët
To these niggas, I'm a mothafuckin' problem
Hang with the Bloods, all the Crips, all the robbers
See Gucci, that's my mothafuckin' nigga
Twenty racks on it, bitch, you fuckin' with a killer
I can't hang with no pussy ass nigga
Thousand carats in the chain, quarter milli for it, nigga
You think I give a fuck what other niggas think?
Make another million every time a nigga blink
I'm rollin' up the purple and I'm sippIN' pink
Champagne drown a bitch until she gotta pee
She only get to ride unless she keep it wet
You lookin' at a gangsta in disguise, you just ain't seen it yet
Call up bee's and Beevis 'cause she butt heads
She know I'm busy, I don't need nothin' but head
And I'm payin' top dollar
Chain so big, can't pop my collar
Pop one pill, make a nigga spend a grand
Pop two pills, make a nigga wanna dance
Pop my trunk, pop me a nigga
Just last night, I had a dream I shot me a...
Pop my trunk, I'mma pop me a...
Just last night, I had a dream I shot me a nigga