[Intro]

Found the quiet through the under like when Celie found a sister

Let no one tear me asunder not a madam, miss, or mister

Cold world but I’m colder than a witch's tit in winter

Flip it quicker than Naomi Campbell’s temper

If you still sleeping on me I suppose that makes me Freddie

Shred your hopes and dreams to bits and toss that bitch up like confetti

Set it off like Cleo and three amigos in a Chevy

My penmanship and tongue work got your nigga a frenzy

Black tax paid and I’m damned to the charge

They betting on a spade with a Mastercard

Killing off the culture and amassed martyrs

Coco blessed the mic so let it capture y’all

[Verse 1]

I want that cable TV, I want that comedy jam

I want them alpaca seats, I want some J’s made of glass

Nah, I want some Ye’s made of glass

Nah, I want champagne in my glass

And I want my juice fresh squeeze, cold pressed, with a dash of volcanic ash

And I wanna get my flicks in magazines

And I wanna a take few more for the gram

Wanna fill up all the seats in mezzanines

But still season all my collard greens with ham

And I want to milly rock with a gold mic in my hand like when Biggie met Pam

And I wanna be on all the best dressed list

On some tribe called fresh shit

With a hint of Black Mae West and

A little bit of throwback Jetson

Want three kings dropping flowers at my feet to a Prince Akeem and ‘nem beat

When I show up on the scene wanna hear big nigga (sing she's your Queen to be) off key

Make the bars go hard, wrote them avant-garde

Catch em all off guard in their own backyard

Dragonlady breathed and the beat got charred

He told me to believe, hold me in high regard

Grab the world by the balls like I’m Maxine Shaw

Sinners got soul, but I’m talking god

Yeah but I’m talking god

Sinners got soul, but I’m talking god

[Bridge]

I want that cable TV, I want that comedy jam

I want them alpaca seats, I want some J’s made of glass

[Verse 2]

And I want a free-range ass sitting on 40 acres of Korean velvet grass

Wanna a little bit of cream with my honey

Want a team that will love me

When my head get big cuz my backside thick

And a kind word turns to a hurt so slick

Tear stains, ear strained hear the dial tone click

Turn a blind eye when a text get missed

Hug me when I home and then call me selfish

Share the sweet fruit so they’re never salty

Make the great pursuit so one day we’ll all be

Under one roof in the morning glory

Putting in work so I’m never hardly

Sleeping on my dreams, hope it don’t cost me

If you speaking ill will nigga speak softly

[Outro]

I want that cable TV, I want that comedy jam

I want them alpaca seats, I want some J’s made of glass