[Part I]

[Intro: Leslie West]
Louder
Clap your hands to what he’s doing

[Chorus: Kanye West]
Scary
Scary
Get money (money, money, money)
Big, big money (money, money, money)

[Verse One: Kendrick Lamar & Kanye West]
Hey, baby, you forgot your Ray Bans
And my sheets still orange from your spray-tan
It was more than soft porn for the K-Man
She remember my Sprinter, said "I was in the grape van"
Um—well, cutie, I like your bougie booty
Come, Erykah Badu-me—well, let's make a movie
Hell, you know my repertoire is like a wrestler
I show you the ropes, connect the dots
A country girl in North Hollywood
Mama used to cook red beans and rice
Now it's Denny's, 4 in the morning, spoil your appetite
Liquor pouring and n****s swarming your section with erection
Smoke in every direction, middle finger pedestrians
R&B singers and lesbians, rappers and managers
Music and iPhone cameras
This shit unanimous for you, it's damaging for you, I think
That pussy should only be holding exclusive rights to me, I mean
He flew you in this motherfucker on first class
Even went out his way so you could check in an extra bag
Now you wanna divide the yam like it equate the math?
That shit don't add up, you're making him mad as fuck
She said she came out here to find an A-list rapper
I said, "Baby, spin that 'round and say the alphabet backwards"
You're dealing with malpractice, don't kill a good n****'s confidence
Just 'cause he a nerd and you don't know what a condom is
The head still good, though; the head still good, though
Make me say "Nam Myoho Renge Kyo"
Make a n**** say big words and act lyrical
Make me get spiritual, make me believe in miracles
Buddhist monks and Cap'n Crunch cereal
Lord have mercy, thou will not hurt me
Five buddies all herded up on a Thursday
Bottle service, head service, I came in first place
The opportunity, the proper top of breast and booty cheek
The pop community, I mean these bitches come with union fee
And I want two of these, moving units through consumer streets
Then my shoe released, she was kickin' in gratuity
And yeah, G, I was all for it
She said, "K-Lamar, you kinda dumb to be a poet
I'ma put you on game for the lames that don't know they a rookie
Instagram is the best way to promote some pussy"
[Chorus: Kanye West]
Scary
Scary
Get money (money, money, money)
Big, big money (money, money, money)

[Verse Two: Freddie Gibbs]
Hey killa, you forgot your soda dawg
My mama kitchen stankin' from the last order dawg
So many cocaine transactions I don't recall
Was lit, tell the judge and the preacher presiding over y'all
Fuck the police protocol
We choppin' loads up, in the crib
No heat by the stove my toes froze up
N****s like to fuck up their re-up money
Get rolled up
Bullet holed-up
Ran off on the plug once (once, n****)
Minor setback, major comeback
Two bitches at the Ritz Carlton, I was dumb hype
I dropped the chicken then remixed it, it was dumb white
Fuck her pretty face and that pussy hoe, what your funds like
Fucked her in some $5,000 shoes or pumps right
Allergic to these weak ass hoes, n****, gesundheit
Miss my Harlem bitch, buss that pussy open in one night
But last time I was out in New York I got in a gunfight
Blowbiz to the showbiz
I kick rap burnin' like kermit sippin' on hoe tears
Million-dollar world tour, a n**** with no spins
Everyday I got a new cousin, n**** we no kin
And all this internet shit done fucked up the era
That bitch ain't been the same since 'Ye dropped her off
At the airport
They only gave us 28 days so make em last
The black delegation would like to trade Stacey Dash
For Adele and Margot Robbie, let's get it poppin', we on
Fuck it, even trade, we even throw in a Raven Symone
Filthy Jet Black n****
Backstage full of white bitches
No I don't sell like Macklemore, but I've got White Privilege
Try not to sell no crack no more, tryna stay out the prison
That Heron shit will get your ass a gas price sentence
That snitchin' shit will leave you marked just like a life sentence
That snitchin' shit will get your family and your wife missin'
Play position, these n****s friendly as a box of puppies
I drop big nuts on this game, they holdin' chicken nuggets
My backwood rolled up with dirty, you smell that
Seen myself on Comedy Central, hope they bring Chappelle back
Feds listenin', all this talk about the scale be scaled back
Seen India Love n***s, a n**** trying to nail that
A couple weeks I'm in Toronto I'ma see all my bitches
But all my n****s can't cross the border for that all-star shit
But n****s be creepin' for the weekend, give her that all-star dick
I want that pussy, head, mouth, ass, and all that shit, all that shit
[Part II]

[Interlude]
Would you join me in welcoming…
The Tempt–

[Verse 3: Kanye West]
Friday night, tryna make it into the city
Breakneck speeds, passenger seat—somethin' pretty
Thinking back to how I got here in the first place
Second-class bitches wouldn't let me on first base
A backpack n**** with luxury tastebuds
And the Louis Vuitton store got all of my pay stubs
Got pussy from beats I did for n****s more famous
When did I become A-list? I wasn't even on a list
Strippers get invited to where they only got hired
When I get on my Steve Jobs, somebody gon' get fired
I was uninspired since Lauryn Hill retired
And 3 Stacks, man, you preaching to the choir
Any rumor you ever heard about me was true and legendary
I done got Lewinsky'd and paid secretaries
For all my n****s with babies by bitches
That use they kids as meal tickets
Not knowin' the disconnect from the father
The next generation will be the real victims
I can't fault 'em, really
I 'member Amber told my boy
No matter what happens, she ain't goin' back to Philly
Back to our regularly scheduled programmin'
Of weak content and slow jammin'
But don't worry, this one's so jammin'
You know it, L.A., it's so jammin'
I be thinkin' every day
Mulholland Drive need to put up some goddamn barricades
I be paranoid every time, the pressure
The problem ain't I be drivin', the problem is I be textin'
My psychiatrist got kids that I inspired
First song they played for me was 'bout their friend that just died
Textin' and drivin' down Mulholland Drive
That's why I'd rather take the 405
I be worried 'bout my daughter, I be worried 'bout Kim
But Saint is baby Ye, I ain't worried 'bout him
Had my life threatened by best friends with selfish intents
What I'm supposed to do?
Ride around with a bulletproof car and some tints?
Every agent I know know I hate agents
I'm too black, I'm too vocal, I'm too flagrant
Something smellin' like shit, that's the new fragrance
It just mean, I do it my way, bitch
Some days I'm in my Yeezys, some days I'm in my Vans
If I knew y'all made plans, I wouldn't have popped the Xans
I know some fans thought I wouldn't rap like this again
But the writer's block is over; emcees, cancel your plans
A thirty-eight-year-old eight-year-old with rich n**** problems
Tell my wife that I hate the Rolls so I don't never drive it
It took six months to get the Maybach all matted out
And my assistant crashed it soon as they backed it out
Goddamn! Got a bald fade, I might slam
Pink fur, got Nori dressin' like Cam
Thank God for me
Whole family gettin' money, thank God for E
[Chorus: Kanye West]
Get money (Money, money, money)
Big, big money (Money, money, money)

[Outro: Kanye West]
And as far as real friends, tell all my cousins I love 'em
Even the one that stole the laptop, you dirty motherfucker
I’ll just keep on lovin’ you, baby
There’s nobody else I know can take your pla-pla-