[Verse 1: Drake]
Versace, Versace, Medusa head on me like I'm 'luminati
This is a gated community, please get the f** off the property
Rap must be changing cause I'm at the top and ain't no one on top of me
n***as be wanting a verse for a verse, but man that's not a swap to me
Drowning in compliments, pool in the backyard that look like Metropolis
I think I'm sellin' a million first week, man I guess I'm a optimist
Born in Toronto but sometimes I feel like Atlanta adopted us
What the f** is you talkin' 'bout? Saw this sh** comin' like I had binoculars
Boy, Versace, Versace, we stay at the mansion when we in Miami
The pillows' Versace, the sheets are Versace, I just won a Grammy
I've been so quiet, I got the world like "What the f** is he planning?"
Just make sure that you got a back up plan cause that sh** might come in handy
Started a label, the album is comin' September, just wait on it
This year I'm eating your food and my table got so many plates on it
Hundred inch TV at my house, I sit back like "damn I look great on it"
I do not f** with your new sh**, my n***a, don't ask for my take on it
Speakin' in lingo, man this for my n***a that trap out the bando
This for my n***as that call up Fernando to move a piano
f** all your feelin's cause business is business, its strictly financial
I'm always the first one to get it, man that's how you lead by example
Versace, Versace, Versace, Versace, Versace, Versace
Word to New York cause the Dyckman and Heights girls are callin' me "Papi"
I'm all on the low, take a famous girl out where there's no paparazzi
I'm tryna give Halle Berry a baby and no one can stop me
[Hook: Soulja Boy]
God damn, Oh my God (15x)
[Verse 1: Soulja Boy]
Real n***a movement, young n***a year
Lookin so fresh, you'd thought I was a queer
Feeling like homer simpson drinkin out a beer
Money in the front, with the lean in the rear
Get him out of here, swag of the year
Young Soulja Boy, I went and tattooed all my tears
Damn I had no fears, I feel like a b**h
Shoutouts to Lil B, I'm sitting on my dick
Pull up to the trap, hoes like damn
All this f**ing money, b**h I think I'm uncle sam
Tatted on my wrist and my clip don't jam
Soulja Boy Tell Em, in the kitchen cooking yams
Trap goin ham, speakers going hammer
Took your main b**h, then I bammed her and I bammed her
Yeah, I rammed her than I jammed her
Nutted in her mouth
I f**ed that b**h in Alabamer