[Intro: Westside Gunn]
Ay yo...
Make sure the money machine still work...

[Verse 1: Westside Gunn]
Ay yo, remember nights in that cell
My cellie prayin' for the crack, lord
If the tape bust, I knock a stack off
Remix, now I made it twenty, clips so long it look fake
Shot your shit up with one pull-y
Viktor & Rolf over the vest, bitches think I’m lifting weights
Run a n***a jewels at the VMA’s
Trying to make everyday a payday
I came home, judge sent him right back for a decade
PRPS distressed, BAPE Reeboks
Floss lied to death, I ain't trying to get what he got
Slaughtering cocaine under water snorkeling
My reflexes put the fork in it to fortune it
Fortune 500 n***as run it
Drag 'em from the Ghost like it’s nothing
Never been shot but I've seen n***as get their shit lit up
I’m like Rich Paul, but richer

[Chorus: Westside Gunn (Planet Asia)]
Spent nights crying over triple beams...
(Ch-cha Chain, Ch-cha...)
Spent nights crying over triple beams...
(Let's count this mothafucking n***a...)
Spent nights crying over triple beams...
(The fuck I'm talking about guns... Word up, yo...)