[Verse 1: Pharrell Williams] We crew hoppers, twenty-in-a-group shoppers Don't look at the watch unless you got blue blockers BBC boats where n***as is true yachters I got an MBA in how to ball Surrounded by n***as that sell more powder than yall Standing like statues and they proud when they fall Til then they selling dope round the calendar They pulling hundred grand up the valet at the mall Walking slow, like it's a Hype Williams video Jacob well paid--the ears got a crispy glow Face like, f** the world, give me hoes So you racking up on everything with pretty toes And fresh bapes, looking like colored chalk and Fat a**, bow-legged like she just started walking Pa** it your man so he can get the number Once she says her name and where the f** she come from She got hope in eyes like she wanna go far Like Hollywood somewhere but your chain got the stars You walking with the his, she trying hers She's dying of thirst, you nice with the words She's fine with the work so you buying the furs When you get outside the b**h died, the flying spur Bentley four-doors from the corridors From your young stunnas they your corers Later on you think of them when you toast in the VIP Gun on your hip, just in case a n***a's set trip [Hook: Pharrell Williams] Come go with me I'll make you feel right That's what the dope man Used to say bring c**aine in the jam Come go with me I'll make you feel right That's what the dope man Used to say bring c**aine in the [?] [Verse 2: Pusha-T] 22 n***as, 2 to a car 11 flag ships with the 3-point star The only other ballers are them 3-point stars We only 5'9 they thinking we point guards No jumper, still at the top of the key No wonder they thought we was shooting them 3's Throw numbers, sell for the deuce and the three Like Air Jordan, it's all in the wrist turning keys Your modern day Chardonnay sippers We throwing up our middles Screaming f** them other n***as We spit it out like '94 diddy on them n***as Ain't worried bout the cost, we know the hoes is counting figures The games of the rich kids we know what the tricks is We turn our backs so we can f** each other's b**hes The lifestyle of the rich and right now Any Given Sunday in the kitchen White clouds.. POOF [Hook: Pharrell Williams] Come go with me I'll make you feel right That's what the dope man Used to say bring c**aine in the jam Come go with me I'll make you feel right That's what the dope man Used to say bring c**aine in the [?] [Verse 3: Malice] I lean like the tower, balancing the 'caine Never thought I'd ever have to touch this residue again He being me don't even count it as a shame I'm the Clipse, I done been learned to dance when it rain Like the gospel song, I won't complain But I won't watch n***as cash in on my pain [?], every gram slung A testament to my momma's tears losing her first son Wanna know the real coke? Never been a dealer, never glorified that Just the character it build, the game's real And you find out quick When you want the Bently The Porsche ain't sh** Not a chain from Jacob What I need is a wake up And this pain my heart got the weight of an anchor And still I thank the good Lord for health And the peace that you get when you right with yourself