Sugar how you get so fly? Got me lifted, driftin' higher than the ceiling Before you play with fire, do think twice Sugar, how you get so fly? But sugar, how you get so fly? Ooh, ooh, ooh Ooh, ooh, hey She got cherry lips, angel eyes

Tell your friends not to think aloud Until they swallow Whisper things into my brain Your voice sounds so hollow I am not a leader of men Since I prefer to follow Do you think I could have a drink Since it's so hard to swallow So hard to swallow

VVS on me, no igloo Don't let these bitches get in your head (Wheezy outta here) Fallin' out of love with Xanax Livin' my life on the edge I'm sacrificin' everything I did Oxy, I don't need alcohol I pop Rolexes like they Adderall Continuin', deliverin'

It's just I know Up in the womb, but you can feel it when I kick it, I know And you too must be rockin' with Lil Dicky, Bono It's like I hit the lotto I had to hit the wall though I couldn't see it for a minute Shit was hidden, Waldo They treat it like

Take all your overgrown infants away somewhere And build them a home, a little place of their own. The Fletcher Memorial Home for Incurable Tyrants and Kings. And they can appear to themselves every day On closed circuit T.V. To make sure they're still

Hey, you and me will be always Now, see, your clothes your shoes and your best friends They ain't gonna stay the same Your reckless years and your mistakes I promise you, they fade away But trust me, the one thing that nothing in this world can change

All praise their sacrificed sons Who would wish this On our people? And proclaim That His will be done Scriptures they heed have misled them Walls are closing Channel surfing

I'm a real nigga homie tote six figures only Gotta pistol you don't want it boy you know what it is I'm way flyer my pays way higher If they ever mention sire boy you know what it is Ain't about drama you don't want no problems I'll up that Llama boy you

They ain't never get this live, though Somebody sure got a birthday, somebody gon' turn eighteen You know what that means, you know, you know You could have whatever you want You know what that means About four million in gold chains, 'bout ten million

They, they talking that That gangsta shit They ain't about that Man, matter of fact Hand me my strap Show me where they at I'll stop 'em from talking like that Yeah, niggas talking all that gangsta shit Acting like my money ain't no good in the hood; you