[Chorus: Rob Markman]

Next check gonna be for a million

I don't know how I know, I just feel it

Palms itching, intuition

Multiple this money we don't understand division

Fuck it up, get it back and fuck it up

Fuck it up, get it back, fuck it up

Next check gonna be for a million

I don't know how I know, I just feel it

[Verse 1: Rob Markman]

I got sins I ain't pay for yet

Copped the Jesus piece just to cover the debt

I must admit last summer was lit

Now I walk up in this bitch like it's money to get

Toast to the life that we choses

Took losses, came up like roses

Tryna paint a picture only got two poses

The Pablo cut, with a part like Moses

Walk with my team in a sea full of posers

Offset the flow, my Migos for the culture

Dropped Write To Dream now the dream getting closer

Nightmares of devils drinkin' lean with the vultures

Awakened by cold sweats

Dapper Dan Gucci paid in full with no debt

Got mine before rap, facts, no flex

Tryna cop the crib before I cop the Rolex

[Chorus: Rob Markman]

Next check gonna be for a million

I don't know how I know, I just feel it

Palms itching, intuition

Multiple this money we don't understand division

Fuck it up, get it back and fuck it up

Fuck it up, get it back, fuck it up

Next check gonna be for a million

I don't know how I know, I just feel it

[Verse 2: Styles P]

We could talk about the next check

My signature's on it, meaning I accept

And deposit it

It look nice, but I still keep it moderate

Need a lick to follow it

Next check I'ma fuck it up

Get it back, fuck it up again

Got work, then cut it up

No dairy, but I'm buttered up

Gotta leather that Mayweather would rock just to stunt on us

Next check is to the rap niggas

If I'm in the back, you ain't got to worry cause I lap niggas

Or I'm standin' there to whack niggas

Make 'em turn around, 'fore I burn 'em down wit' the strap nigga

Next check is to myself

Gotta check up on ya health

Gotta check up on ya wealth

Got checks up on ya feet

Another check up in the belt

I'm a real chess player, make the checkerboard melt

Ghost, nigga

[Chorus: Rob Markman]

Next check gonna be for a million

I don't know how I know, I just feel it

Palms itching, intuition

Multiple this money we don't understand division

Fuck it up, get it back and fuck it up

Fuck it up, get it back, fuck it up

Next check gonna be for a million

I don't know how I know, I just feel it

[Verse 3: Cris Streetz]

I just feel that paper comin', that's my intuition

Need them Steph Curry numbers, leave them in their feelings

Bars golden, mouth on diamonds when I smile they glisten

Warrior mentality, we kill all opposition

They lookin' salty while we padding the stats

The Bronx boy they said that couldn't got 'em watchin' their backs

I'm in these meetings, feet up, like add more zeros to that

These boys thirsty for a deal they signed for less than a pack

These Don C's on my feet ain't cheap, matter of fact

Check the team, Noc beats ain't cheap

Must be the Bow Wow Challenge, what trap y'all seen

Everybody talk G but I've seen men bleed

It's all irrelevant

Fuck Trump, only rockin' with dead presidents

Fuck up some paper, cop some more the only medicine

Simple math, more you cop, lower that the numbers get

Waitin' for that million dollar check so I could blow the shit

[Chorus: Rob Markman]

Next check gonna be for a million

I don't know how I know, I just feel it

Palms itching, intuition

Multiple this money we don't understand division

Fuck it up, get it back and fuck it up

Fuck it up, get it back, fuck it up

Next check gonna be for a million

I don't know how I know, I just feel it