Lyrics

[Intro] One thing about me, bruh, like— I just know, like— If I'm not first, bruh, I'm never gon' be last, I can never lose, like— No matter how much you try one-up me There's no, like— I don't—, I could never do that (Drivers, start your engines) [Chorus] Why she call me papa? (Uh), no, I'm not her father (Yeah) Money standin' up straight, it got good posture Shrimp with the pasta, that girl, she a baba Whole gang gettin' guala, put that on my mama Steady countin' commas, we don't do the drama Presi' Rollie with the red face, like Obama I do what I wanna, rock out like Nirvana [Post-Chorus] Better give her to the gang, 'cause she goin' and you know that And they see me in my Bain, all black, just like Kodak We gon' take his life, tell his partner get his bro back (Get yo' bro back) You must be a fool if you thinkin' I be on lack (You a fool) I know rappers bitin', tell them boys give my flow back We gon' run 'em down and surprise 'em like a throwback Yeah, my Glock got a drum, makin' beats, ain't no Polack Finna be on tour, travelin', I'm a nomad (Yeah) [Refrain] (Ooh, whew, ooh) Girl, you could've said somethin', knew you was a fed one (Oh) No, we cannot talk about no money, you don't get none She was playin' games, I guess it's on to the next one (Yeah) (Ooh, whew, ooh) Girl, you could've said somethin', knew you was a fed one (Oh) No, we cannot talk about no money, you don't get none She was playin' games, I guess it's on to the next one (Yeah) [Chorus] Why she call me papa? (Uh), no, I'm not her father (Yeah) Money standin' up straight, it got good posture Shrimp with the pasta, that girl, she a baba Whole gang gettin' guala, put that on my mama Steady countin' commas, we don't do the drama Presi' Rollie with the red face, like Obama I do what I wanna, rock out like Nirvana [Post-Chorus] Better give her to the gang, 'cause she goin' and you know that And they see me in my Bain, all black, just like Kodak We gon' take his life, tell his partner get his bro back (Get yo' bro back) You must be a fool if you thinkin' I be on lack (You a fool) I know rappers bitin', tell them boys give my flow back We gon' run 'em down and surprise 'em like a throwback Yeah, my Glock got a drum, makin' beats, ain't no Polack Finna be on tour, travelin', I'm a nomad (Yeah) [Refrain] (Ooh, whew, ooh) Girl, you could've said somethin', knew you was a fed one (Oh) No, we cannot talk about no money, you don't get none She was playin' games, I guess it's on to the next one (Yeah) [Outro] On to the next— on—on to the next one On to the next— on—on to the next one