[Chorus: Keith Austin]
I used to wanna be Drake, now he got nothing on me
Poppin' champagne bottles that I got overseas
I got a lot of hate comin', they got low self-esteem
Been mad, pocket watchin', everything in between
I hear bitches ain't shit, well, go get you a queen
I got the bass drum pumpin' like it's tryna get free
I got a lot of hate comin', they got low self-esteem
But at the end of the day, they just tryna be me

[Verse 1: Keith Austin]
They call me Keith, but you already know this
Back in high school, I was the one nobody noticed
I know it's been a minute, but I swеar that this my moment
I'm the hottest in my city and I know that I'm thе coldest
I be gettin' money, but I'm moving nonchalant
I be cookin' like a restaurant, what you, what you want?
I told CJ, "I'm not motivated," he said, "Don't be a bitch
Time to get back on your shit and hit it like you never missed"
Out the park, I be swimmin' with the sharks
I ain't scared, I be talkin' to my demons in the dark
I'm the big bad wolf, you think I'm scared of a bark?
I ain't playin' with these bitches, but it's time to play my part
I'm a big star shinin', you can see me smilin'
I know it's been a minute, but I call this perfect timing
I'm kicking in the door, 'cause nobody let me in
I ain't stoppin' 'til this city starts screamin', "Austin!"
[Chorus: Keith Austin]
I used to wanna be Drake, now he got nothing on me
Poppin' champagne bottles that I got overseas
I got a lot of hate comin', they got low self-esteem
Been mad, pocket watchin', everything in between
I hear bitches ain't shit, well, go get you a queen
I got the bass drum pumpin' like it's tryna get free
I got a lot of hate comin', they got low self-esteem
But at the end of the day, they just tryna be me

[Verse 2: Rick Ross]
Hundred stacks on a watch (Watch)
Hundred blocks on a dot (Dot)
Ricky Ross, new whip, tennis shoes and the socks
I'm up in Secret City, yeah, that boy got that bling
You better hit the phone, them bricks selling like ringtones
I'm steppin' out fresh, I'm steppin' out clean
My n***a Young [?] the boy in DPC
When you up in the D, we gon' stunt like a dog
My n***as dropped outta school but we subject to ball
I used to worry 'bout the crackers, 'cause the crackers ain't [?]
Now I'm lookin' in the Phantom, bitch, you know that I'm the mob
See the grill in the front, might get the fillin' the [?]
Fuck how you feelin', Ricky Ross, I get a million a month
I'm so mob, so mob, I get it so mob
Pullin' up to the trap fresh off a blowjob
Gettin' thousand-dollar jeans, pussy n***a tell that
If you waitin' on the side, boy, just hit my cell back
[Chorus: Keith Austin]
I used to wanna be Drake, now he got nothing on me
Poppin' champagne bottles that I got overseas
I got a lot of hate comin', they got low self-esteem
Been mad, pocket watchin', everything in between
I hear bitches ain't shit, well, go get you a queen
I got the bass drum pumpin' like it's tryna get free
I got a lot of hate comin', they got low self-esteem
But at the end of the day, they just tryna be me