[Intro]
Yeah
Millzy, I see you
T told me, "Do this shit"
So I'ma do this shit
No Ceilings!
Yeah, haha
Hahaha
I'ma run this town tonight
All right, now
Ugh

[Verse]
N***a, we are so ready for the war
C-A-R-T-E-R, put the beat in ER
I'm colder than "B-R," add another three Rs
Watch me like DVD/VCR
Pump to your chest, I ain't talking CPR
Riding this track like a motherfucking streetcar
New Orleans coroner—his name is Frank Minyard
Fuck with me wrong, you’ll be waking up in his yard
Man, I go crazy on the beat, I go nimrod
Man, I act a ass, treat the beat like a hem'rrhoid
Man, I go to work on the beat, call it "employed"
Man, I kicks it, bitch, get your shinguard! Ugh
Young Money run this—towns, countries
I still eat rappers—mmm, scrumptious
My goons tote thumpers, they pump 'em like krumpers
Anybody beat, I'm gon' go Archie Bunkers
Tunechi be the wildest, let's run the metropolis
I pop like lollys, you drop like eyelids
The money keep calling, I hear the shit dialing
And they say money talks, you can hear my shit holl'ing
You softer than ny-lin; oops, I meant "nylon"
Perfection is the goal, and I’m headed to the pylon
Crown fit me good, I ain’t even got to try on
The pistol mean business—that bitch should have a tie on
T done told me, "Do this shit," so I had to do this shit
I get superhero money, call a n***a "super-rich"
Keep it "super" for a while, let me get on my "super-" shit
Super-ill, super-sick—dog, I go super-Vick
Ran into a superwoman, turned her to a super-bitch
Hit her with that super-dick, she be coming super-quick
Super-Millz, Mack, Tyga, Streets, 'Nelly, Super Nick'
Super-Drizzy, Gudda, Chuckee, Twist, that's the super-clique
Now, I’m off that "super" shit, fuck that shit, I super-quit
Running circles 'round the game, like a hula hoop and shit
You gon' have to loop this shit, there won’t be a duplicate
And my blunts be super-thick, I'm higher than a Supra kick
I—I’m the bomb, baby, watch me nuke this shit
When I leave the booth, they gotta scoop this shit
My apologies, diabolically
I’m the prodigy—do you roger me?
I look in the flames and see a hotter me
But how come I’m still colder than common-ly?
Yeah, we run this town, like a lot of feet
Young Mula, baby; I'm proud of me