[Verse 1: yg]
I'm talkin 'bout puttin' on, ridin' out
Glocks in my ma's house
Front you with that work
(I done fronted n-ggas work)
You say you want that head up
But we don't fight fair brah
Catch you slippin' from your backside, then knock you out
Ace gone stomp you out, then Buddah gon' stomp you out
(Has momma ever seen you with a busted eye and busted mouth?)
Nine milli pokin' out, 4 Fizzy pokin' out
Death Row days show you what this West Coast about

[Verse 2: Lil Wayne]
I'd die for my motherf-ckin' n-gga
Jump in front a bullet for my motherf-ckin' n-gga
On the stand I'd lie for my motherf-ckin' n-gga
Rob a bank, I'd drive for my motherf-ckin' n-gga
Real talk, I don't really f-ck with too many n-ggas
Cause n-ggas drop a dime on you like a couple nickels
I be laughin' to the bank like the f-ckin' money tickle
Drivin' somethin' that you ain't, top off, suck a nipple
And I never put a ho before my bro
Don't beef over no ho
And my n-ggas sell them keys if you can't open your door
Hope you ride for my motherf-ckin' n-ggas
When it rains it pours, it's dry for me and my f-ckin' n-ggas
I kill for my motherf-ckin' n-ggas
Vice versa, eyes red from the kush I blew
White person, got my middle finger on the trigger
And with my little finger to you n-ggas
I swear it's f-ck all y'all n-ggas
Except my n-ggas
Tunechi!

[Hook: Rich Homie Quan & Lil Wayne]
I said that I'mma ride for my motherf-ckin' n-gga
Most likely I'mma die with my finger on the trigger
I've been grindin outside all day with my n-ggas
And I ain't goin' in unless I'm with my n-gga
My n-gga, my n-gga
My n-gga, my n-gga (My motherf-ckin' n-ggas!)
My n-gga, my n-gga (My n-gga, my n-gga)
My n-gga, my n-gga

[Verse 3: Meek Mill]
Ohh! I done spent a million dollars on my motherf-ckin' n-ggas
You catch me out Chicago with them motherf-ckin' hittas
Call in Rondonumbanine, Lil Durk will bring the trigger
And when we on that lean, we ain't f-ckin' with the liquor
I'm a buy a hundred bottles just to give it to the bitches
She keep liking all my pictures
Cause she see the way I ball, how my wrist and that be lit up
Catch you at the red light, have em screamin' “Caine get up"
Same n-gga from the bottom ain't a damn thing change
Catch me out in Collins screamin' "money ain't a thang"
In a red Mulsanne, lookin' like I claim blood
And if homie ain't my homie than I know it ain't love
Screamin' out "4 Hunnid,” yg that's my n-gga
Cause I been in the field life on the line with him
And if it's really good, why I prolly die with em
Cause when I need the choppers, I just tell Tock hit em

[Hook:]

[Verse 4: Nicki Minaj]
I just got 250 thousand dollars for a verse, n-gga
I don't know, is it me or it's your thirst, n-gga?
You nig, you n-ggas ain't got no joints
Like a injured Chris Paul, you ain't got no point
I just come through with a couple bossy bitches
They get money too, they some "don't cross me" bitches
Flossy bitches, Sergio Rossi, bitches
And if we at the game then it's floor seat, bitches!
I ride for my bitches
I'm so f-ckin' rich I cop rides for my bitches
Dollar menu fries apple pies other bitches
I drop a freestyle and get a rise outta bitches
Bitches, my bitches
I need a n-gga with some different strokes, Todd Bridges
Shout out to my main bitches, and my side bitches
Need a n-gga with some good neck, ostriches
My n-ggas

[Hook:]

[Outro: Nicki Minaj]
New York to Compton
Got yg with me so don't get stomped in
Y'all know who the f-ck it is
See I done preheated my oven to 350 degrees bitch
And when you come out, it's gon' burn you bitches like
You better get your motherf-ckin' oven mitt, bitch!