[Intro]
Very good, very good professor
Check these, the deal is on
And here's you first installment, one million dollars

[Verse 1: Cyrus]
I hope your tires go flat when you whipping in your new Beamer
Call Triple-A and get the “You ain’t paid the bill” line
Good grades back in postgrad
D list celebrity now, but you can’t hold that
Hands-free, walking handjob
Promise I ain’t hiring, forgot to turn the sign off
This is one hell of a way to start a conversation with myself, but fuck it I relate
I got bottles by the eight count, that’s crazier than my dad’s mom
Models in my lake house that’s angrier than I am
Feet in the water looking up like I owe ‘em something
Walked the seven mile in the eight with the Bieber bumping
New kids obsessed
With the old school when they never went to class
If you wanna act like hip-hop is dead
You should probably wake up and then go back to bed

[Interlude: Packy]
Yeah! Morning after the wedding, it’s lit!

[Verse 2: Packy]
This shit feel like ’09 again in the basement
Still I’m taking my shots but I’m the one that they chasing
Went from ain’t nobody tryna sign me
To moving up into the offices and having signees
Look at me, took the neighborhood I came up in, flipped that shit
Into a movement, everybody want their name up in
It’s whatever, it’s lit now
This song was alright, I gave it a verse, it's a hit now
These rappers are jokes, they been clowns
Do a stand-up or sit down
I could get the hands up and still hold the Mitt down
Look at the kid now, been off the grid now, for a minute
When the fall come, you all’ll be witness
I might hit the fall and winter like a fadeaway J at the buzzer
Take it away 'cause I’m on my J or a couple a dozen a day
Spit but they got nothing to say
I beat the odds once, now it’s double or nothing to play
Pack!
[Outro]
Woo! It’s super lit!