[Intro: Ce'Cile, Len]

Gold dust (Haha)

You hear me coming through your speakers (I mean like, the way I been feelin' nowadays, like)

You see me mashing up your airwaves (I can't even entertain an average)

I know you can't get enough of my sound (Hahaha)

(Trust) It's like gold dust

(You know what I'm sayin') You hear me coming through your speakers (We make good money, like)

(Haha, yo) You see me blagging up your airwaves (Scared money don't make no money)

I know you can't get enough of my sound (I ain't been scared in a while)

Come on

[Verse 1]

I'm done being humble, I'm done bеing humble

How could I be humble? I camе from the jungle (Come on)

There's no bag I fumbled, I'll go get another (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)

There's no bitch I fumbled, I'll go get another (I go get another)

You can't match the number, watch the convo crumble (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)

Ego on a hunna, never been a runner (Cha-ching, come on)

There's no bag I fumbled, I'll go get another (Come on)

There's no bitch I fumbled, I'll go get another (Yes)

I know they schemin' on a kid, but who hasn't? (Who hasn't?)

But screw niggas, my niggas got two hammers (Yes)

With loose cannons, my niggas they do damage

If there's a coup d'état, they spraying every single one of you, who planned it

The way I'm feeling myself, I can't entertain average

I got bread in both pockets, it's a Rick Owens sandwich

It's twenty for a verse, thirty if you want an anthem (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)

Do the math and calculate, what we gettin' per annum

[Chorus: Len & Ce'Cile]

Move out, we're coming through your speakers

Make way, we coming through— just know we're comin' through

Move out, we're coming through your speakers

Make way, we coming through— just know we're comin' through

Move out, we're coming through your speakers

Make way, we coming through— just know we're comin' through

Move out, we're coming through your s—

Make way, we coming through— just know we're comin' through

[Verse 2]

Wahala, palava, I really hate drama

If anything is catchin' up to me it ain't karma

She tryna turn me on, I need the head like a charger

It's ironic that you are what you eat 'cause I'm an asshole

My dargs know I had lines like a barcode

Had dark snow in my Stone Island cargos

Albufeira and Faro, I'm Cristiano

Shittin' on these niggas, only mercy that I know is a 'lago

I'm in Lagos, not La-gos

Supercar, convoy, then you know it's us

My jeans so skinny, I might get thrush

Ain't no pat-downs in the club, they make room for us

[Chorus: Len, Ce'Cile & Chef Dee]

Move out, we're coming through your speakers (I would hate us too)

Make way, we coming through— just know we're comin' through (Damn we're pissin' on niggas out we dont need to fuckin' move)

Move out, we're coming through your s— (We're five thousand feet in the air in the Swiss Alps eatin' caviar)

Make way, we coming through— just know we're comin' through (What you know 'bout that shit?)

Move out, we're coming through your speakers (Rest in peace my granddad, they ain't never seen motion like this)

Make way, we coming through— just know we're comin' through (We're fifty five deep)

Move out, we're coming through your s— (In this club with five thousand bad bitches throwin' up tris, more bands on the fuckin' way)

Make way, we coming through— just know we're comin' through (GB shit)