[Intro: Rich Boy & Polow da Don]

Yeah, ayy, yeah

Oww!

[Verse 1: Rich Boy & Polow da Don]

My Maserati and Ferrari like to chill with my Mercedes

See, my Bentley what I got when my two Phantoms had a baby

Ain't that crazy? Why you lazy? I get chauffeured like Ms. Daisy

Fuck you, pussy nigga, pay me! My Lambo do 'bout two-eighty (Hey!)

Thought you selling—heard you telling

Thought you killing—why you stealing?

Thought you dealing—why you chilling?

You ain't balling with a million (You ain't balling with a million!)

God made me super rich, the Devil made you stupid, bitch! (Ha!)

You could be just like me if you quit with all that stupid shit (Woo!)

Why you acting hard now? You must wan' go see God now

The same niggas you were beefing with up in your yard now (Ha!)

If you 'bout to run, dog, I guess you better start now

Forgot to bring your gun, so you gotta use your heart now

It's hard to get rich, but it ain't shit to go to Hell (Ho!)

It's hard to sell dope, but it ain't shit to go to jail (No!)

It's hard to keep it real, but it ain't shit for you to tell (Ho!)

I smoke so much of this that I can't even hide the smell

[Hook: Rich Boy & Polow da Don]

So drop! (Haha) Drop! (What?)

Drop! (Hahahaha) Drop!

Now, drop! (New Rich Boy!) Drop!

Drop! Drop!

[Break: Polow da Don]

Let's go!

They call me (A bad motherfucker)

Polow da Don! (Oh, they call me that, too)

Anyway (Haha), I wanna take the time out right now to put y'all up on some important information

Me, myself, and Mr. Sean "P. Diddy" Combs—

We gon' pay somebody mortgage in 2009 (For the whole year!)

Go to zone4inc.com to register to win

Or pay attention to Diddy blogs

Y'all know what time it is! Zone 4!

Rich Boy, we gon' bring it back, my nigga

Come on!

[Verse 2: Rich Boy, Polow da Don & Both]

We marijuana farmers, all our rides look like Transformers

Tell the pretty girls to pull they titties out and dance for us (Yeah)

You don't need a gym class, crack like SlimFast

Take a hit and lose a fucking hundred pounds quick fast (Hey!)

It's snow-cold, the chain on, I'm [?] chain off

My blunt gon' kick the game off, we never take a game off

Find a hater, sign a hater, let 'em see my elevator

Hundreds in my 'frigerator, now they know we getting paper (Say what?)

Find a hater, sign a hater, let 'em see my elevator

Hundreds in my 'frigerator, now they know we getting paper (Hahaha! Yeah!)

Pull the coupe, the Escalade, the enemy's on respirators

Million-dollar generators; now, the Feds investigate us

For flashing cars, to prison bars

Ménage à trois, the black cards—I swear it's hard! Now, drop!

[Break: Polow da Don]

Hahaha! Y'all can't fuck with us, man!

Keep on hating, nigga!

We told y'all niggas, when—When y'all let us in the game, it's gon' be over

Now, all y'all niggas chasing my ass

All y'all niggas tryna catch up

Anyway, let's go!

[Hook: Rich Boy & Polow da Don]

Drop! (Ho!) Drop! (New Rich Boy!)

Drop! (This a exclusive!) Drop!

Now, drop! (It's called "Drop!") Drop!

Drop! (Rich Boy new album the hardest shit!) Drop!