Phone Numbers - Wiz Khalifa, Big Sean, Trae Tha Truth

Usually I’ll be smoking weed on the intro but I’m drinking water

This cabin fever

sick

I’m not going to tell you again

Stay the hell away from my woman

Taylor Gang nigga’s think you can do what ever they want

I cop me one, cop me one for my old girl

You think she my newest bitch, she my old girl

Khalifa, a younger nigga who handle his

Hoes get in my car ask what the channel is

Boss shit, look that up my nigga, I handle biz

On fire, like a candle is

Niggas be dressing off the manikin

Mmm, and I get fresh like where them cameras is

Better yet sandwiches, bad bitch Spanish friends

Coulda been the President rather be the man instead, yeah

Now when I get paid my checks be lookin' like phone numbers

Now when I get paid my checks be lookin' like phone numbers

(You can talk shit bitch, I’m worth a million)

I’m talking millions, nigga I’m talking millions

(You can talk shit bitch, I’m worth a million)

I’m talking millions, nigga I’m talking millions

Time is money so I went and bought a Rolex (bought a Rolex)

Time is money so I went and bought a Rolex (bought a Rolex)

(You can talk shit bitch, I’m worth a million)

I’m talking millions, nigga I’m talking millions

(You can talk shit bitch, I’m worth a million)

I’m talking millions, nigga I’m talking millions

I’m in the hood of off something that’s corner surfing

Float, no water, my trunk is waving, I’m polar surfing

Blowing faces, I’m shitting on the diamond infested

Time is money, peep the wrist bitch, my time’s invested

I’m still the king and I’m thugged out

Any block, any club I flood it out

I ain’t one for competition I’mma blow it out

I’m going hard I don’t even plan on going out

I get money probably something you don’t know about

I stunt hard, you would swear that I was showing out

Don’t tell me get 'em, I got 'em and I’mma throw 'em out

And back door on these hoes that I was warning out

While I’m in this machine, convert the top

Tell them that the sky is the limit

With a foreign freak, she got her face in my lap

So deep you would think that she was hiding in it

Shrimp, steak liquor and pastaaa

Real shit boy, these niggas imposters

They deserve an Oscar, Kevin Costner

Oh My Gosher

I got this and that and everything I want like I got a hostage

Counting 7 digits no wonder why the money calling

Got ya bitch panties Niagara falling

Dollars come like I fuck in the bank

I told them I could, they tell me I can’t

They want me to trip when I dunk in the paint

I’m popping champagne and puffin' on dank

Shining hard, boy, these niggas gotta see me

My dick hard, your bitch is easy