Laced in “Macy’s-Don’t-Have-It”
A hatred addict
I need faces mad with frowns
When I’m around
Or I’m wasting fabric
I don’t feel great until my Plush Pieces
‘Cause you to suck your teeth
So mean-mugging on my clean-thugging mean nothing
Women dream I’m your husband
I’m Alex Pushkin
The black poetry-writing Russian
Ice disgusting
I started bling
How could you question my direction
Or my time for collection
Gangstas two-steppin’
You hate me
Should thank me
But lately I burn so much trees
I keep environmentalists angry
I’m a rare dude, I’m a wonder
Your best success is my worst blunder
Y’all living trendy on pennies
I cop plenty Fendi
Vivienne Westwood, I’m good
Get the whole Trump Tower top floor for the hood
Dre & Cool, we riding heavy
NY to Miami ‘Cause . . .
Chorus (C. Brown)
(We make the world go round)
Now let’s toast to the hustlers
(We make the world go round)
Tell the hustlers, toast to the gangstas.
(We make the world go round)
Tell the gangstas, toast to the ballers
(We make the world go round)
And tell the ballers pour glass for all us.
(We make the world go round)
(The Game)
I see The haters on the floor jockin my swag
I’m popping Ralph Lauren tags
I’m pouring champagne inside a polo glass
Model bitches rollin grass
Escobarin’ foldin’ cash
Toasting wit my entourage
Went from Robbing Armored Cars
To arming Stars
Red carpet, to the L’Hermitage, to throwin red dice at the Mirage
I pull that red Lamborghini on twenties out my garage
Set up shop in South Beach like Khaled and Terror Squad
Big pippin, Top down chrome spinnin
Top Gun Tom Cruise Tucked inside my Gucci linen
No *Homo* just Romo
You tryin’ to shine, I’ll put the 9 on your jersey for promo
Jessica Simpson that’s so-so
Nick want his baby back but thats lo so.
Tell Hawaii 5-0 To catch me at the pro bowl
on the field diamonds choking the jockey on my polo
CB let em know though
(Chorus)
(We make the world go round)
Tell the hustlers, toast to the gangstas.
(We make the world go round)
Tell the gangstas, toast to the ballers
(We make the world go round)
And tell the ballers pour glass for all us.
(We make the world go round)
We make the world go round From my town to your town
We on top no stopping us now
We got patron the ballers two steppin
Ladies on the floor and all in two steppin
From Malay to Harlem two stepping [echo]
So Iced out easy to put them haters out
(Nas)
We start with Bellini’s and end with Patron shots
H. Lorenzo belt buckle from Chrome Hearts
A-life tag popper
It be sad not to walk out the store with bags worth a 100 cash, shopping
Violence only when hafta, hafta to swell you up
Prefer Peach Schnapps, Pierre-Jouet or Vanilla Dutch
Mets cap, that’s Queens, I’m a vet, Bet that
300 carats the average up on the neck, black
Paid the cost, be the boss, Black Caesar floss
Weekends at the Venetian, pull up in that black Porsche
Top down, new fashion
Seeing me is like seeing through the lens of Helmut Newton’s camera
Light flashing, and I’m laughin’
My plaque’s from album sales
Y’all is ringtone platinum
But .99 cents adds up
I don’t hate ’em, I congratulate ’em
The new young Prince with young Mike Jackson on the same track, what!
Now let’s toast to the hustlers
(We make the world go round)
Tell the hustlers, toast to the gangstas.
(We make the world go round)
Tell them gangstas, toast to the ballers
(We make the world go round)
And tell the ballers pour glass for all us.
(We make the world go round)
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