Verse 1 - PFV:

Million on my mind, I need to make that in a month
Pour that 1942 with lime inside my cup
I might lose my feelings but I'm never out of touch
Run me all that money on the backend, I don't front
Look, I had my back on the wall
I had to get up and really go get it, I couldn't be slacking at all
They come at me wrong and I pull out the saint
And I'm watching them splatter the walls
I built a money tree right off an iPhone
Awaiting the Apple to fall
I go test my own limits
Y'all not my business
Hop in, that's record time I feel like I'm Guinness
Pop up, my ice shine
I know they gon' mimic
Don't wait for no right time
I get up and I get it
I got heart, I got drive, I got options
Start it up, I adjust, ain't no stopping
On kеy, turn the knob, bitch I'm locked in
Clean sweep whеn I'm up, bring the mop in
Tats all on my face I keep the tints
Ink all on my body but I never sign for shit
I be on the jet and I Uber to the Ritz
Yeah the lights gon' hit my diamonds every time I raise my fist
Chorus - PFV:

Million on my mind, I need to make that in a month
Pour that 1942 with lime inside my cup
I might lose my feelings but I'm never out of touch
Run me all that money on the backend, I don't front
Million on my mind, I need to make that in a month
Pour that 1942 with lime inside my cup
I might lose my feelings but I'm never out of touch
Run me all that money on the backend, I don't front

Verse 2 - Rick Ross:

Hundreds stacks on the watch
Hundred blocks on the dot
Ricky Ross new whip, tennis shoes and the socks
I'm up in secret city yeah that boy got the bling on
And when they hit the phone them bricks selling like ringtones
I'm stepping out fresh, I'm stepping out clean
My n***a young mob, dough boy, and DPC
When I'm up in the D we gon' stunt like a dog
My n***as drop out of school
But we subject to ball
Don't worry bout the crackers cuz the crackers ain't sharp
How I'm looking in the phantom bitch you know that I'm the mob
See the grill in the front
Might get the feeling to flaunt
Fuck how you feeling Ricky Ross I get a million a month
I'm so mob, so mob
How I get it so mob
Pulling up to the trap fresh off a blow-job
Yeah them thousand dollar jeans
Pussy n***a tell that
If you waiting on a sack then just hit my cell back
I'm so
Chorus - PFV:

Million on my mind, I need to make that in a month
Pour that 1942 with lime inside my cup
I might lose my feelings but I'm never out of touch
Run me all that money on the backend, I don't front

Rick Ross:
Ugh