[Verse 1: Nick Grant]

Check, uh

I got a thing for Benzes throttle engines

Hottest lenses, watches, and Taraji Henson

Fuck the fame, cause the game brings phony friendships

My homie was the co-defendant

I had more to lose

We hit a lick, he spent it all on shoes

Now he need a lawyer and he calling who?

What’s a boy to do?

A southern nigga with these up north flows

Got more hoes than my childhood wardrobe

A lot of the times niggas lie in they rhymes

In order to live forever you got to die in your prime

Too broke for white folk

Too rich to be in the mix

That's life though

Walking this tightrope

Put your hands on mine

You know the outcome

Cash long like Johnny dropped a double album

Balcony seats

Play the cut

Suit cut to a crease

Smoother than her ex man

Peep the mystique

All I got is my word and my two genitals

I fuck her good make her reach her pinnacle

This for the niggas who, sneak dissing who

Probably on more lean than smooth criminal

Shucking and jiving streets glorifying jiggaboos

When he ain’t making what you make he feel miserable

Black Sinatra

[Hook]

Big bills

Big Deal, not enough

Got a lot, still ain’t got enough

You can have the game when we done with it

People say I change

Cause I got black cards, black truck, black driver

That’s us

Black tux at the opera

Money and fame, they come with more problems

Outlive that, Black Sinatra

[Verse 2: Nick Grant]

It took a nigga like JG to put me on

The rap phenom

Who else would he put the cream on?

The last nigga slept though

Need it up front

Quiet as kept though

I’m like Marshawn Lynch with strep throat

[?]

You need a team to win, tell Mello recruit the skill

Never sold dope but if I had the money from doing

I wouldn’t need a deal, still I am under influence

Call me Pablo set the bar high check the repertoire

Never trust a chick with leopard print she a cheater

Here is the epilogue, I like broads that like broads

Classy, never use the N-word in white cars

You tripping if I ain’t the hottest, fuck being modest

I’ll probably make Rakim and Daddy Kane the proudest

She in the crib looking at the walls like you ain’t got no plaques

That’s cause those other niggas ruined rap

Who is that, gangster living dangerous, where bodies pile up

The male Badu, fuck her make her witch her style up

Got a pool filled with Jessica Albas we wild bra

You niggas hand shakes ain’t matching your smiles bra

And that’s the way of life, make it and pay the price

Pick a nigga like me, to show your daddy raised you right

Nicky blue eyes, know I flow miracles

Nobodies, somebody get rid of you

[Hook]

Big bills, [?]

Got a lot, still ain’t got enough

You can have the game when we done with it

People say I change, cause I got black cards, black truck, black driver

That’s us, black tux at the opera

Money and fame they come with more problems

Outlive that, Black Sinatra