Yeah I want it all, tell me who is gonna stop me Let that hate dissolve, flyest niggas in the party I step in this bitch feelin' like I'm John Gotti I just wanna ball, tell my haters that I'm sorry Ay, I just wanna ball, tell my haters that I'm sorry She

All the haters, all the lovers All the people I ain't seen in too many years All the friends that are more like brothers All the faces in the bleachers Yeah this one's for the ones who got me here The ones that I drank all those beers with Made it

Turn to a savage, pocket got fatter, she call me daddy Smoking that gas, gone off that xanny, she on the powder Money got longer, speaker got louder, car got faster Nowadays I am on, my haters got sadder It do not matter Money so old, diamonds spoiled My

Smashin' up, them 'Raris dash out (cash out) 'Member all them nights we used to trap out? Broccoli and collard greens (collard greens) Passin' all them haters, cash out (cash out) Let's party like the '70s Blowin' on hella tree It don't matter to me,

Work so fucking much, my greatest fear is Imma die alone Every diamond in my chain, yeah, that's a milestone People calling me, asking me for money, man The only thing Imma give you motherfuckers is the dial tone On the down low, haters drown slow I been

I was made for this shit, rookie of the year I wouldn’t show up for the freshman list Your swag expired, you ain’t fresh like this Shit on all my haters, I’ma make them pissed Trade my Honda to a Bentley Now these fuckboys wanna end me Ammunition, I got

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah They say haters be in they feelings I've been a sucka for the love, gotta let it go 'Cause I see that you love different My homies always tryna tell me nigga, let her go But I love, I love her, I love her, I can't let

I'm not famous, no And I don't hate it, no Where my haters? I don't got 'em It don't matter what my name is I don't got one, I'm not famous, no 'Cause I'm not famous, no Paparazzi is at an all-time low You never heard of me

We put the good in the good in the good life Ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy Raise up a cup up for all my day ones Two middle fingers for the haters Life's only getting greater Straight up from nothing we go Higher than the highest skyscraper We put the good in the

I choose death before dishonor I'd rather die than live down on my knees Bury me like a soldier, with my dignity! Bury me! (Bury me!) To the haters, the takers, the liars, all the vultures and the bottom feeding scum The FCC, the FBI and every tin god