[Verse 1: Young Jeezy]
I’mma show you motherfuckers how to kill a remix
Comin’ all black like I’m hittin’ them licks
All black .40 with them ladders hangin’ out
30-round clips, call them shits chopsticks
Run up in the booth with a ski mask on
Run up in the booth make a ski mask song
Run up the booth, then I hop up in the Coupe
Now I’m ridin’ in the ‘Rari with a ski mask on
I’m too bossed up, I need to turn my boss down
King of the Street shit, where the fuck is my crown?
Graduated from the street with my cap and my gown
You the motherfuckin’ man if you servin’ your town
My lil’ n***a eat, sleep, shit and deal cocaine
Not that rap shit, I’m talkin’ real cocaine
CTE, TBC (what is is, homeboy?) “Boss Yo Life Up Gang”
With my boss bitch and she bossed up
On that 2Pac, she’s gettin’ tossed up
Can’t cross me, you’ll get crossed up
Can’t cross me, I’m too bossed up
My name Hefe, I do boss shit
No Old Star, get lost, bitch
You a bitch n***a? Then kick rocks
Just know rich n***as do drop-tops
You ain’t shit, I talk shit
Ebola rhymes, my watch sick
I’m Top Gun, I’m in the cockpit
Got the game locked, call the locksmith
No Stan Smith, I do gourmet
Giuseppes, new J's
My earrings, they cold as fuck
Call the North Pole, that’s bossin’ up
[Hook]
Valet park my whip, n***a
Hammer time for my chips, n***a
(Bossin’ up) add it up
Your girlfriend choosin’ so you mad as fuck
Chillin’ with my coalition, n***as rackin’ up
(Bossin’ up) add it up
(Bossin’ up) add it up
A lil’ Louis, but my bitch want some bags and stuff

[Verse 2: Kid Ink]
It go, uhh
Bossin’ up and you downgrade
Look around and see a bunch of clowns
Tryna represent my town lately (wait)
I’ve been gone for like 30 days
I wore every chain, no wedding ring
Got a boss bitch and she understand
That timing is everything
Nah, don’t trip – put it on the tab
Knowin’ I’m a G, gotta put it on the bag
Break a bitch down, gotta put her in a cast
She ain’t got a ride, might put her in a cab
You ain’t even know, n***a? Put him in a class
Trip, Big Chuck might put you in the past
Hit a blunt hard, n***a, put me in the pads
Just rolled up, but the high don’t last
Ridin’ through the city, hope I don’t crash
Know they thought that it wasn’t gon’ last
You can’t even tell me why you mad?
Is it really that bad, is you doin’ that bad?
What you make in a year I pay in taxes
The money burnin’ holes in my pocket
I just need somewhere to ash it
Nah, you ain’t gotta ask, bitch…
[Hook]

[Verse 3: YG]
Okay, I’m bossin’ up…
‘Cause I done already lost enough
See, like… ever since last year…
Everythin’ I’m buyin’, now it cost one up
Say, it’s dark as fuck…
Girl, why you actin’ hard to fuck?
Why you got your guards up?
Like you playin’ ball or somethin’
Pull up in that Porsche Panamera, park it up
Hop out lookin’ sharp as fuck, tint dark as fuck
Bitch, fuck up off…
But you know we don’t love them hoes
Yeah, me and Young partnerin’ up
That’s the talk in all the barbershops, n***a
Shaq height, couldn’t baller block
Probably invest in all the stocks
I’m 400, corporate thuggin’, Pushaz Ink the label
Mama still got bills that’s gotta be paid for
Remember when mama wasn’t able?
With them credit card numbers, I was payin’ cable
It’s all respect over here… we gettin’ checks over here
All my homies rap, so all my n***as got next over here
[Hook]