[Intro]

Yeah

Millzy, I see you

T told me, "Do this shit"

So I'ma do this shit

No Ceilings!

Yeah, haha

Hahaha

I'ma run this town tonight

All right, now

Ugh

[Verse]

Nigga, we are so ready for the war

C-A-R-T-E-R, put the beat in ER

I'm colder than "B-R," add another three Rs

Watch me like DVD/VCR

Pump to your chest, I ain't talking CPR

Riding this track like a motherfucking streetcar

New Orleans coroner—his name is Frank Minyard

Fuck with me wrong, you'll be waking up in his yard

Man, I go crazy on the beat, I go nimrod

Man, I act a ass, treat the beat like a hem'rrhoid

Man, I go to work on the beat, call it "employed"

Man, I kicks it, bitch, get your shinguard! Ugh

Young Money run this—towns, countries

I still eat rappers—mmm, scrumptious

My goons tote thumpers, they pump 'em like krumpers

Anybody beat, I'm gon' go Archie Bunkers

Tunechi be the wildest, let's run the metropolis

I pop like lollys, you drop like eyelids

The money keep calling, I hear the shit dialing

And they say money talks, you can hear my shit holl'ing

You softer than ny-lin; oops, I meant "nylon"

Perfection is the goal, and I'm headed to the pylon

Crown fit me good, I ain't even got to try on

The pistol mean business—that bitch should have a tie on

T done told me, "Do this shit," so I had to do this shit

I get superhero money, call a nigga "super-rich"

Keep it "super" for a while, let me get on my "super-" shit

Super-ill, super-sick—dawg, I go super-Vick

Ran into a superwoman, turned her to a super-bitch

Hit her with that super-dick, she be coming super-quick

Super-Millz, Mack, Tyga, Streets, 'Nelly, Super Nick'

Super-Drizzy, Gudda, Chuckee, Twist, that's the super-clique

Now, I'm off that "super" shit, fuck that shit, I super-quit

Running circles 'round the game, like a hula hoop and shit

You gon' have to loop this shit, there won't be a duplicate

And my blunts be super-thick, I'm higher than a Supra kick

I—I'm the bomb, baby, watch me nuke this shit

When I leave the booth, they gotta scoop this shit

My apologies, diabolically

I'm the prodigy—do you roger me?

I look in the flames and see a hotter me

But how come I'm still colder than common-ly?

Yeah, we run this town, like a lot of feet

Young Mula, baby; I'm proud of me