(This’ a Big E beat)
“Young Money All-Stars” on the way!
Put the party in the bag—now hand it over

Hold up, hold up, I didn’t know you were gon’ do this one. Alright, now y’all motherfuckers have me—That—That’s what y’all been wanting, huh? OK, OK, go ‘head, Drama, do it

See, I don’t wanna be the mixtape king no more
More like the mixtape president
Barack O’Drama!
It was definitely time for change
Yeah
I mean the game been dry
Uh-huh
So, I figured we going for re-election
Yeah
So, me and Wayne gon’ keep running
Uh-huh
So y’all niggas can fly
It’s Gangsta Grillz, you bastards!

This’ a Big E beat
And I’ma cook this bitch like piggy meat, yeah, ha ha (Ill!)
You can get pork-chopped
Young Money, bitch, let the champagne cork pop (Gangster! Ill!)
I will bat your man, now go tell a shortstop
OK, bitch, you do the wop? Well, bitch, I do the guap
OK, man, you do the drop? Well, man, I do the yacht
You pull up in parking lots, I pull up at the dock, like, yeah
Macaroni, greens and ham hocks
I am not on your planet like Doctor Spock
Rock to my own tune, Lil Tune
My stomach hurt, and my shit is dropping real soon
Kill whom and whoever for whatever
That barrel longer than a word with 10 letters—now you spell it
I say, “Young Money, bitch, forever,” and we’re better
Than all these motherfuckers up in this era, know’m tal’m’bout?
Yeah, I tell my niggas, “Pick the target out.”
Yeah, and then, I quickly pick the target off
Like volleyball, I’ma serve ’em
And being fake is pussy, so, nigga, I’m a virgin (Gangster!)
Dr. Carter, tell them bitches I’m a surgeon
Cleaner than some brand-new detergent, you heard me?
And I make your bitch get on the plane with that Fergie
Tell ’em, “Get off Birdman Jr. birdy.”

I love the skin that I’m in
Goose pimples couldn’t shake me up out of the Y-M
That ‘gnac, that Goose, that ‘trón, that gin
Got a club of girls cracking, let the party begin
I heard you call yourself a baller when the camera’s on
If it ain’t tricking ’cause you got it, what you’re tripping on?
See, I’m the spoiled chick you fronting niggas hate to meet up with
But my crew holding duffle bags, bitches (Gangsta Gri-Zillz!)

Rocking on the scene (Ugh), and yeah, I hear “My Dougie” (Yeah)
I D-Town boogie, now the girls really love me (C’mon)
V.I.C. then Vic, yeah, they both got silly
Lil Twist, I get silly (Ugh), I’m the king of the city
Young Money, Young Mula, yeah, the kid in this thing
Grown men in this game can’t compete with me, man (Uh-uh)
‘Specially when I pull up in that candy Range (Yeah)
Twenty-fours on that thing, sitting next to Lil Wayne
I’m a beast, I’m a dog, yeah, yeah I rap harder (C’mon)
Mic in my hand, I run like Marion Barber
While you haters on the sidelines, and I be a starter
Going bad on you kids like I’m Reginae Carter
That’s my little sister if you boys didn’t know (Wait)
That’s Weezy’s daughter, so don’t mess with her bro! (Uh-uh)
‘Cause we’ll come find you in all kinds of cars
Signing out, Young Money, D-Town’s All-Star (Yeah)

It’s Tyga (Yup), no lion (No), I’m eating, no diner
This species don’t diet, every meal a fish Friday (Yup)
Squad deep like the white guy from Verizon, gator righteous
So it’s only right you meet the fugitive, John MacGyver (Me)
Teenager, school cyphers, I was too nicer than them
No license, you gets no high-fiving
Nigga, roll the damn dices (Damn)
Touché, my wordplay two shades from the color grey
My kick game so unreal, they say them colors must be fake (ha ha ha ha)
Never been made, MTV, I make
Quake your very eyesight, my fame’s no mistake (Nope)
Since the deal, steak dinner everyday
Fuck a movie, my life is like a Compton play (Yeah)
You can see it, nearly breathe it from a couple feet away
But stay away ’cause I don’t get along with the tagalongs (Nah)
Let me get on a song, period, gone
I’m off the hook like cordless phones
My identity so right, they think it’s wrong
G.E.D., Young Money, finish strong, so I’ma keep going (Ah)
My ligaments covered in green like general syllables on my face
Like my skin was leather-made, leather, man
Louie you ain’t never seen, like a nun booty
None before we—after, it’s only boys
Tyga-man, I do it for the hating homies

Dedication 3, baby
Yeah