text: Uh, Gucci
  Wanna make love, love, love
  King of the skreets
  And when these suckas see me, they should bow to my feet
  And kiss the ground underneath
  I look down at the beef
  That shit childish to me
  Two hundred thousand to see me
  And its been sold out for weeks
  Cant brush shoulders with me
  These stones in my choker are 2 karats apiece
  Look like boulders to me
  Damn, who colder than me?
  You think he colder than me?
  You more bipolar than me
  You talkin crazy
  Im tryna book Beyoncé for my wedding day
  Im the type of nigga, spend a million on a wedding cake
  Niggas hate, but hesitate
  They hate to see ya elevate
  I just left out the gym
  Im bout to take a swim and meditate
  Woo!
  Now its time to celebrate
  Ask me why Im smilin
  I say, Cause I make two mil a day
  And I might take your bitch and pay her bills
  Thats how I feel today
  And I just wanna fuck
  Dont wanna chill, thats how I feel today
  Im makin money like Im makin sweet love
  I wanna make love, love, love
  She say the money make her wanna make love
  Wanna make love, love, love, huh
  Ay yo, aint talkin housewives, but Im in the Porsche
  First Ima scorch her, then Ima torch her
  Then Ima torture her, then Ima off her
  A million dollars for a show, they made their off-er
  Go against Nicki, its gon cost ya
  Cause now its fuck ya, intercourse ya
  I rep Queens where they listen to a bunch of Nas
  Im a yes and these bitches is a bunch of nahs
  Tryin’ to win a gunfight with a bunch of knives
  I win, get off the bench and give a bunch of fives
  I dont see her
  Bitch Im the greatest, no Kendrick and no Sia
  Im the iPhone, you the Nokia
  Everybody know you jealous, bitch its so clear
  Tell them bum ass bitches to play their role
  She see my sexy ass every time she scroll
  I got it in the can, Dole
  Your career gon be with Anna Nicole
  Witcha dumbass face
  She aint eatin but I swear she got some bum ass taste
  Text her man like, Dawg, how that bum ass taste?
  Pay your rent! And stay in your bum ass place
  Oooohhh, oh you the qu-e-e-the queen of this here?
  One platinum plaque, album flopped, bitch, where? 
  Hahaha, ahhhhh
  I took two bars off just to laugh
  You see, silly rabbit, to be the queen of rap
  You gotta sell records, you gotta get plaques
  S, plural like the S on my chest
  Now sit your dumbass down
  You got an F on your test
  Im makin money like Im makin sweet love
  I wanna make love, love, love
  She say the money make her wanna make love
  Wanna make love, love, love, huh
  I love to see the money stack up
  Hope that we dont ever, ever break up 
  Wanna make love, love, love