[Intro: Rick Ross]
This sh** is highly sophisticated
I just make it look easy, n***a
Follow me
[Verse 1: Rick Ross]
I’m so sophisticated
To get a verse from me, you gotta be initiated
To get a purse from me, she gotta be sophisticated
Purchase a whip from me and never miss a single payment
I’m from the city where the m**ms even Christians hate it
Even the black folk hate to see another n***a made it
Tell all them pussies to chill, champagne refrigerated
Just bought a chopper ‘cause the last one, got it confiscated
Counting a hundred mil so many times, I contemplate it
You wanna be the hottest but that sh** get complicated
I pull your card, I know you’re p**y by your conversation
Show you the safe you’ll have to k** me for that combination
Made another two milli just off the compilation
I just hit a lick, I’m telling you this sh** amazing
Got a white b**h, she f**ing me just like she Jamaican
Sipping purple and that motherf**er concentrated
This for my n***as in them prisons, overpopulated
[Hook: Rick Ross]
This the mob so you gotta get initiated
If you a mark, then you gotta make initial payment
We going hard, run it back just like it’s Walter Payton
The game sweet, gave all my n***as an occupation (Rugh!)
We so sophisticated (Ugh!)
sh** so sophisticated (Woo!)
Hundred millionaires, b**h we made it (Ugh!)
[Verse 2: Rick Ross]
I’m so sophisticated
Smoking weed, busting open Dom and liquor later
I bust her open then I tell her I’mma lick her later
Pull out the stick and spray that b**h just like it’s activator
Time to lay down these n***as who still be masquerading
We know you pussies, so you got my n***as masturbating
Round of applause ‘cause them choppers be so captivating
So sophisticated ‘cause them hits be calculated
Put yo dick in the dirt, now you decapitated
I’m getting money so you’ll never hear me talking petty
Tatted on my stomach, rich forever, Makaveli (Babyyy)
Fifty million, hundred million, it’s accumulating
I’m the hottest and these other n***as cooling, ain’t it
I got a b**h I’m f**ing that you see on BET
My Lil’ Haiti shooters will have yo a** on TMZ
Breaking news and we still get them for ten a key
And if he faking, f** him, tell them n***as “C’est la vieâ€
[Hook]
[Verse 3: Meek Mill]
sh**ting on these haters, ball hard D Waiters
Ever since I got money, e’rybody need favors
That’s why I ain’t got no homies, and I ain’t got no neighbors
But I be on my grind like I ain’t got no paper
But I’m so rich and I got yo b**h
All in my whip and she all on my dick
With a hand on my stick, tryna live in my crib
‘Cause I handle my sh** like a candle got lit
‘Cause I burn sh** down, yeah I'm in my bag
And these n***as so mad it’s my turn now
And I get that cash and my b**h so bad, she so sophisticated
I’m balling hard, f**ing b**hes and ain’t got sh** for haters
I hang my arm out the window now watch me get the paper
My neck so frosty, you frauding, yo sh** refrigerator
Boy you an imitator
You ain’t got no M’s in yo account, I never ask my amount
Treat that bad b**h like a bad check ‘cause I cash that and I bounce
I ain’t never had sh** but I grab sh** and I cashed out on that ounce
And I flipped that to a bird and bounced back like word
[Hook]