[Intro]
Y'all hooting and hollerin' about who's hotter
Got 28 sales next month man
Just closed two deal on my Email and my iPad
30,000 feet in the air I'm like that

[Verse 1]
Back in this bitch, yeah I'm back in this bitch
If that bitch get to spazzing, I'm axing that bitch
And I'm asking you rappers, do you ask your bitch for permission to sit down and piss? (Pussy!)
I'm actually rapping 'bout factual shit
Couple hundred on chains put that on my bling
I'm a savage, I'm blessed and they asking you shit
And you do too much, n***as get slapped like a bitch
I make in a week what you make in a year
Eight figure, n***a, so let that be clear
I captain you n***as, please let me steer
For hope for your n***as, and that shit is weird
Yeah, you got a single - your swagger so boring
I swear I feel like imma never stop touring
They claiming it's time to bring races together
They come to my shows, get wasted together
Party together
Smoke one together
I'm changing the world, y'all hope for the better
My business I handle
You rappers just rebel
They tell me "Come back", but the game is in shambles
And it's just a shame, they come in my lane
They want that old Flocka, that Hard in the Paint
They feel so authentic, you artists is lame
Face, car, I got credit charged into the game
I matched in the gas and I mastered my craft
School of hard knocks, got my Masters in math
I count them like Scooter, then go see my jeweler
Oh y'all some OGs, I'm original shooter
They screaming "Free Gucci!" and yelling out "Squaad!"
Like y'all n***as knew us, man y'all n***as frauds
I sell to Atlantic, but don't need a deal
Please do not panic, return of the real
(Flocka!)