Bugatti (feat. Future & Rick Ross)

We the motherfuckin best nigga

Ace Hood

Its Over, Future

I come looking for you with Haitians

I stay smoking on good Jamaican

I fuck bitches from different races

You get money they started hating

I woke up in a new Bugatti

I woke up in a new Bugatti

I woke up in a new Bugatti

I woke up in a new Bugatti

I woke up in a new Bugatti

Niggas be hatin I'm rich as a bitch

100 K I spent that on my wrist

Two hundred thousand I spent that on your bitch

You and your model put that on the list

Oh there he go in that foreign again

Killin the scene bring the coroner in

Murder she wrote, swallow or choke

Hit her and go home and call her again

Woke up early morning, crib as big as a college

Smoke me a pound of the loudest

Whippin some shit with no mileage

Diamonds cost me a fortune

Them horses all in them Porsches

You pussies can't handle afford it

4,200 My mortgage

Ballin on niggas like Kobe

Fuck all you haters you bore me

Only the real get a piece of the plate

Reppin my city I'm runnin my state

Give me a pistol then run with the K's

Niggas want beef then I visit ya place Bang!

Yeah, and I'm at it again

There go that flow bringin tragedy in

Copped me a chain your salary spent

Niggas is sweepin them cavities in

Countin money, hourly trend

Rolling them skinny like Olsen twins

Niggas is squares, cabin and pens

Neck full of Gold Olympian shit

Neimans, I'm blowing the check on they gear

Fall on some pussy then hop on the Lear

Shot with them choppers back of the rear

Sak pase' them killers is here

Woke up early morning, mind is tellin me money

Paper, mula, pockets is fat as a tumor

Billionaire nigga no rumor

Livin my life off of tuna

Wanted with me I deliver the beef

Real niggas only enjoyin the feast

Pull up a seat, bon appetite

No Louboutins put that red on your feet Bang

Photographs of dope boys, is all they taking

Finger prints on the Rolls Royce, is why they hatin'

Push a button on these broke boys, that's detonation

Walk a road to riches bare feet

I watch mama struggle now she livin' careifree

That's why I hustle for half a key that's 12 G's

I'm tryin' to bubble every summer a new LP

You gotta love me I got shooters out the D-League

Signin' bonus hit that man that's from thirty feet

Left in a puddle, finger prints is on hundred mill

And what it is?

Ricky Rozay and Ace Hood, we hella Trill

Yeah