[Intro: The Weeknd]
I don't got a single sober vein in my body,
I don't got a single sober vein in my body.
[Verse 1: The Weeknd]
Don't apologize, I quite enjoy messy,
I see that bottle after bottle got you goin' crazy,
And doin' shows after shows got me so lazy,
So ride it out for me, and take it off for me.
It's a good vibe, good vibe, good vibe,
Don't you ever threaten niggas with a good time?
She wanna buy a dream, I said, I don't sell it,
But she can rent it for a night, I don't mind, open wide.
‘Cause all this fame, I earned it, I might as well use it,
Private elevator goin' straight to my unit,
All my niggas ‘round me, gettin' kickback pussy,
All my killas ‘round me, all be hiding in Stüssy.
Can't nobody stop me, used to be homeless,
Now that penthouse at the Ritz where my home is,
Tour bus like a National Geographic,
Bitches runnin' wild, gettin' faded in the bathroom.
[Chorus: The Weeknd]
It makes me smile, it makes me smile
‘Cause I got it.
It makes me smile, it makes me smile
‘Cause I got it.
All the pain, sweat and tears, just to get a piece,
But now we got it.
Man, look at the kid now, can nobody stop me,
I don't got a single sober vein in my body.
[Verse 2: Rick Ross]
Fuck her like a thug nigga, young nigga, new Ferrari,
Old money, I just ‘fraid the Lord with us,
Condo blow money, like it's all dope money,
Come short wet niggas, like a speed boat comin', oh Lord!
Mo money, mo money, these rich young niggas ain't ever know money,
Bel Air runnin' down, the Rollie on her arm,
Pinky ring six hundred, what you know about it?
I'm the champ, baby, Real Deal Holyfield,
Got the bitches, want it dirty, went and bought the crib.
Twenty-five mil, I'm doin' 25 to life,
Hundred acres, keep my shooters all through the night.
Every chandelier rented, nigga, one mil,
Twenty chandeliers, mothafucka, who real?
I just wanna show her what I live like,
Wearin' a white Birkin on a winter night.
Fuck a Birkin, now she in the Bentley,
That's when she went and tatted double M G,
Now I ballin' deep, deeper than the rap.
She give me brain, she a mastermind to be exact,
She a mastermind to be exact.
I give her game, and she give it back,
Sip syrup so I fuck slow,
Sip more I wanna fuck more,
Gotta grind till your eyes close,
Stay strapped till the trap close.
They scream ‘Maybach!' on the cell blocks,
All my dawgs, who used to sell blocks,
They say the niggas in the jail talk
How your homie's commissary fell off,
What make it worse, he get an elbows,
25 to life, dead wrong on the cell phone.
[Chorus]
