[Verse 1: Drake]
Versace, Versace, Medusa head on me like I'm 'luminati
This is a gated community, please get the fuck off the property
Rap must be changing cause I'm at the top and ain't no one on top of me
Niggas be wanting a verse for a verse, but man that's not a swap to me
Drowning in compliments, pool in the backyard that look like Metropolis
I think I'm sellin' a million first week, man I guess I'm a optimist
Born in Toronto but sometimes I feel like Atlanta adopted us
What the fuck is you talkin' 'bout? Saw this shit comin' like I had binoculars
Boy, Versace, Versace, we stay at the mansion when we in Miami
The pillows' Versace, the sheets are Versace, I just won a Grammy
I've been so quiet, I got the world like "What the fuck is he planning?"
Just make sure that you got a back up plan cause that shit might come in handy
Started a label, the album is comin' September, just wait on it
This year I'm eating your food and my table got so many plates on it
Hundred inch TV at my house, I sit back like "damn I look great on it"
I do not fuck with your new shit, my nigga, don't ask for my take on it
Speakin' in lingo, man this for my nigga that trap out the bando
This for my niggas that call up Fernando to move a piano
Fuck all your feelin's cause business is business, its strictly financial
I'm always the first one to get it, man that's how you lead by example
Versace, Versace, Versace, Versace, Versace, Versace
Word to New York cause the Dyckman and Heights girls are callin' me "Papi"
I'm all on the low, take a famous girl out where there's no paparazzi
I'm tryna give Halle Berry a baby and no one can stop me
[Hook: Soulja Boy]
God damn, Oh my God
God damn, Oh my God
God damn, Oh my God
God damn, Oh my God
God damn, Oh my God
God damn, Oh my God
God damn, Oh my God
God damn, Oh my God
God damn, Oh my God
God damn, Oh my God
God damn, Oh my God
God damn, Oh my God
God damn, Oh my God
God damn, Oh my God
God damn, Oh my God
[Verse 1: Soulja Boy]
Real nigga movement, young nigga year
Lookin so fresh, you'd thought I was a queer
Feeling like homer simpson drinkin out a beer
Money in the front, with the lean in the rear
Get him out of here, swag of the year
Young Soulja Boy, I went and tattooed all my tears
Damn I had no fears, I feel like a bitch
Shoutouts to Lil B, I'm sitting on my dick
Pull up to the trap, hoes like damn
All this fucking money, bitch I think I'm uncle sam
Tatted on my wrist and my clip don't jam
Soulja Boy Tell Em, in the kitchen cooking yams
Trap goin ham, speakers going hammer
Took your main bitch, then I bammed her and I bammed her
Yeah, I rammed her than I jammed her
Nutted in her mouth
I fucked that bitch in Alabamer
Other Soulja Boy songs:
all Soulja Boy songs all songs from 2013