Like Whaaat

[Verse 1: Problem]

Who dat, talkin' bout, who dat?

Run up on me, you'll get your ass beat blue black

Go on get nerve, I'm off the curb

Push mountains of herb, you niggas already heard

The bro Berg keep a pistol gripped pump on his lap at all times

Wherever, however, 'cause young niggas they trying

See 'em and be like “huh, nigga, what?”

“Huh? Give a fuck like what?”

Hell yeah, this the remix, we comin' harder than cement

...to they nose, no Kleenex

Shining like the sun, no Phoenix

Diamond Lane gang wear it big, no 3X (free Miller?)

You gangbangin' foolie chucker

...still good on the block, Timmy Duncan...

...labels can't advance me...

That Cali... got Diddy dancing

[Hook]

Aye, I'm just doing my thang

Fingers in the sky, banging my gang, like...

Ooh... go on, fall back

'Cause you don't want no problems like that

'Cause we gon' be like “huh, nigga, what?”

Huh? Give a fuck, nigga, what?

A nigga be like “huh, nigga, what?”

“Huh? Give a fuck, nigga, what?”

[Verse 2: Wiz Khalifa]

What's Mackin 30, under 30

I'm a young rich black man

What's happening

No it's ain't Taylor less my hands is in

Grands I'mma spend, grams put them in

Seen that Bombay, ran from the gin

Staying low key, still they know me

Smoking OG, and I blow it by the O-Z

Fader, please

I'm getting stupid high, me and B-R-O-B

My Js super old, Rick Owens, no sleeves

We at the after-party, you can brig you own weed

We gon' take shots until someone has to drive us home

Come from a place where they do tote that chrome

Smile on they face, but ain't nothing a game

Stacking that paper, don't get in their way

Or Rat-tat-tat

[Hook]

[Verse 3: Chris Brown]

Ok it's OHB sir, bag bag

I got an ounce of that bounce in a Glad bag

Molly fucking up my liver, got a bad back

And if you trying to fuck with her, I'mma tax that

...all on the floor, I'm trynna pour it up

Lean on my.... so slow it up

And the police trynna pull up on the scene

Then they ask you what you seen

Right behind me that's the drum line

All you hear is 'brat, brat', hit it one time

Punch line, nigga had bread since the lunch line

I can put some soldiers on the front line

Open season, just give me the reason

To bust, and just let it squeeze and

My rope-a-dope is the meanest

I box you up in the freezer

Comatose, paraplegic

I'm dodging the misdemeanors

Hoping I don't get subpoenas

[Hook]

[Verse 4: Tyga]

Huh? banging out the truck

I'm T-Raww, bitch, go on let a nigga...

Huh? you heard what I said

Your bitch is a bird, but I don't give her bread

What? Problem pass the weed

These niggas claim they ballin'

Then why they clothes free?

Cause motherfuckers cheap

Like a nosebleed seat

You ain't gotta go to Miami to feel the heat

LA, burner to your belly

My niggas OGs, keep the burner in the telly

Getting head till it ache, that's a motherfucking headache

Do this shit tonight, send it straight to felly felly

Why? I'm selling dreams, the money team

...but they ain't got no fiends

Got the juice and the cream

Wu-Tang, Raheim

I'm a money, money, money machine

[Hook]

[Verse 5: Master P]

Probably getting paper

Don't fuck with you broke niggas, you haters

Like D. Howard with the motherfucking Lakers

I represent the street, No Limit is the label

Throw your hoods up, where you from?

We in this bitch deep

And niggas get dumb

Niggas in the back poppin' bottles

...throwing dollars

Louis V down from my head to my toes

C-Murder in the pen, and that iron getting swol'

Never gave a fuck 'bout no niggas wanna hate

Keep the chopper in the car, case I wanna play

She showed me the... call that... Dhali

I know she a freak, cause she gone off molly

Pushing 160 when I'm riding in the go

You ain't from round here, better walk slow

[Hook]