text: My beat low, my bass low, I ride low, she go low
  My beat low, my bass low, I ride low
  Juicy, tell em what you said bruh
  Me, Juicy J, got too many hoes
  Me, Juicy J, got too many flows
  Clique ballin out, like the 98 Lakers
  Pull up in a million dollar car and violate it
  Fly to Cancun on Sunday, land in France on Monday
  Faded at the fashion show, tryna grab a bitch off the runway
  I aint even pack no clothes, nothin but rubbers in my suitcase
  Laid her on the mic, menage with my model and her roommate
  And if I tip a bitch, we fuckin, it aint no discussion
  It cost to be the boss, my nigga, you way out of your budget
  Who you playin with lil homie? Your life wont cost me nothin
  Juicy J so presidential, dont make me press that button
  My beat low, my bass low, I ride low, she go low
  My beat low, my bass low, I ride low, she go low
  I get a brick, you know I get it for the low
  Her ass so fat, I told her drop it down low
  I do a verse, you know my prices aint low
  Lil momma know I like my kisses down low
  Me, Nicki M, I got too many wins
  Pull up with them V twins in my engine
  All this ice all around me, like a penguin
  I aint talkin bowlin, but Im with the kingpin
  I pull up with a nigga with a real big dick, thats just so good, man a bitch came quick
  I aint ever have a beat, that a bitch aint rip
  Im fly everyday, but a bitch aint trippin
  You be on that bull, you be on Scott Pippen
  I be pimp walkin, Im limpin
  Cs on my bag, so they think Im crippin
  Every nigga in here wanna know what Im drinkin
  Myx Moscato, niggas
  I keep a pillow with me, just because Im tired of niggas
  Im with some flawless girls, theyre pretty and theyre thick
  Bust it open quick, put that pussy on his lips, bitch
  My beat low, my bass low, I ride low, she go low
  My beat low, my bass low, I ride low, she go low
  I get a brick, you know I get it for the low
  Her ass so fat, I told her drop it down low
  I do a verse, you know my prices aint low
  Lil momma know I like my kisses down low
  Im Lil Bibby, Mr. Everything-For-The-Low
  Mr. Leave-Her-At-Home-Hell-Take-Your-Ho
  Mr. Stack-That-Dough
  Young rich nigga used to trap by the store, now I tax for the flow
  Tell a rap nigga, Im not feelin you
  Stop frontin, boy, yall not criminals
  At the top, man they talkin bout killin you
  Got two 9s but theyre not identical
  Ill never trade on my squad, nigga
  Ball hard, nigga, Im Michael Jordan, you Lebron, nigga
  In other words, you a fraud, nigga
  Ill pull your card, nigga
  Im a young boss, Im runnin shit
  Call me King Tut, all this gold on, I be blinged up
  If they try to rob, got the things tucked, you aint seen nothin
  At the club, their jaws drop when I pull up in that Benz
  Thirty deep, bout twenty heats, still stomp him out with my Timbs
  Im in here chillin with my feet up
  I told yall that Im bout to heat up
  Man its time to kill all this weak stuff
  Pull the beat up, watch me eat up
  My beat low, my bass low, I ride low, she go low
  My beat low, my bass low, I ride low, she go low
  I get a brick, you know I get it for the low
  Her ass so fat, I told her drop it down low
  I do a verse, you know my prices aint low
  Lil momma know I like my kisses down low