It go fly bitch, fly shit, and got these ho on my dick

And if I could have one wish its that I die rich

Yeah, a bitch tryna go to the grave with it

Know I keep that crack, gettin paid with it

Real talk, while you bitches just play with it

Long hair don't care, bad bitch don't stare

You could leave, don't care, won't care, flow rare

So turned up don't wanna turn down

You see that ass from the front, no turn arounds

Like got damn, I mean oh, shit! Cold bitch and my flow sick

So sick I might cough and hack and then toss some racks

Like count alla that

Nah, now I'm about my business

And I know these hoes ain't with it

Wanna talk about paper? I got it

Broke muthafuckas might not get it

Now murder murder kill, hundred dollar bills

Real bitch till I die, now tell me how it feel, huh?!

Demons, c'mon!

You gotta vision, you're on a mission...

Demons, live on!

And when I die, hang me high!

Real bitch till I die, now tell me how it feel, huh?!

Money up so it's going down

I got enough dough to go round and round

I'm talkin round and round, but no merry-go

Hoes see me out and say "there she go"

You know point and look, you know stop and stare

Yeah I'm racked up, but not stopping there

You see me in the store then I'm copping that

Clutch full of that green, Rodman hair

You know first class champagne designer life is my campaign

I been ill and I can't change, so ill it's a damn shame

But I spend it like it's no damn thang what you made in a year is just chump change

Low paper, really no paper, huh?

Bitch gone do it, watch me run through it

You don't fuck with who? Bitch you sound stupid

Bitch gone do it, watch me run through it

And we ain't never stopping

Act like ya know it!

Demons, c'mon!

You gotta vision, you're on a mission...

Demons, live on!

And where I die, hang me high!

Real bitch till I die, now tell me how it feel, huh?!