[Verse 1: Rick Ross]
I'm focused on Fetti Candy convertible Chevy
Fuck it, call me petty and owe me, I'm coming to edit
I'm coming to set it, pussy n***a I said it
Believe that fake shit if you want, them n***as pathetic
I'm smoking Jimmy Gee, so you know the weed fire
I got a crib in the A that's big as Green Bry
Ain't no furniture in it, just tees and Levi's
Couple dollars and them clips for the gringas
I'm talking more blow and I'm feeling bigger now
I'm talking M's n***a, put them little figures down
One time for Alfamega, we are alpha beta's
And we're out for cheddar, until we're out forever

[Verse 2: Alfamega]
Uh-huh, yes sir, this the G-mix
Alfamega run these streets, what it be bitch
Cause you're faking with it, and I know it
But the time has come, you gon' have to show it
I fuck with real goons, and O.G.'s
You fuck with straight lames, and wannabes
I got the Chevy pushing, in the fast lane
Smoking Obama, laughing at John McCain
Thinking like Malcolm while I exit ML King
I gotta get mines, and that's by any means
I know the haters thinking, how can this be
Alfamega, Rick Ross, Bun-B, and T.I.P
[Chorus: Alfamega]
Ain't got another putting on like me
I can buy the bar 7 days out the week
We getting money uh-huh, uh-huh, uh-huh, uh huh
Uh-huh, uh-huh, uh-huh, yes sir

[Verse 3: Bun-B]
It's the underground, king and I
Be coming down, I'm singing my
New song, my crew long
Crack the window, this dro is too strong
You wrong, and I'm right
But you gon understand that with hindsight
Go get your mind right, and level off
I'm sub-woofer hard boy, you're treble soft
Go get your boss, go get your chief
Get get your O.G. and tell him bring his piece
I got the grill, I got the gas
He not the trill, I will dump his ass

[Chorus: Alfamega]
Ain't got another putting on like me
I can buy the bar 7 days out the week
We getting money uh-huh, uh-huh, uh-huh, uh huh
Uh-huh, uh-huh, uh-huh, yes sir
[Verse 4: T.I.]
Stay on automatic, I ain't talking bout the gas shit
Well known, shorty flashing, fantastic, I'm spazzing
California mansion, poolside lamping
But still run zone 1, shorty what's happening
Rappers way average, shorty stay swagging
Death before dishonor, hate haters with a passion
Record drop straight to the top, no zig-zagging
Talking about I'm falling off, I'm laughing, imagine
I'm still getting money to the point it ain't funny
Shut broke n***as up, when I holla about a hundred
Quarter mill on me homie, want it, let's run it
Don't need the the dough trust me, hustling's just a rush for me
No dispute, who you fooling, the best to ever do it
And slice it how you like it, still I'm in the top two and
I'm on the top of that list, ask anybody that shit
The coldest on the mic, flowing with a southern accent
N***a!