[Intro: Nym Lo]Out on Exuma Island, on the beach with a hunnid iguanasMy son grab one by the tail, lil' nigga wildin'Smilin', thinking 'bout the paper I been pilin'Every dish is carefully curated or it offends my palletFlyer than a pilot, never need a stylist'Less a booth is empty in my salon and that's on GodYoung business owner, no diplomaChampagne sipper, never soberForeign car, European motor[Verse 1: Nym Lo]I'm comin' back for everything they owe us (That's right)Jewels chunky, Carti' robustFoot on necks, I'm not gon' slow up (Nope)Anything to get my dough up (Cash)With a bitch that love to suck a rich nigga dick until she throw upHol' up, big Harlem from the trenches to stardomUsed to pump on benchеs in PradasCrack made the fiends gimmе ten of they dollarsSometimes eight if they promised to cash that checkAnd come straight back to me with the profitsI rather count cheese over gossipPretty waitress grate the parmesan cheese over pastaTryna book this eight room villa on this site plus the flightsBut I can't find the button that says ''Click here to leave a deposit''Shorty tough but I can't turn a hoe to a house wifeSo I just wanna know what that mouth like and I'm out like (What?)The trash on a Thursday, playing hard to getKnowin' she was gon' give up the ass on the first day (Ahh)I come from a long line of guys that was afraid to be small timeBroke a quarter key down to all dimesFlooded the strip with a gun on my hipShe said she like to eat out, so I made her put her tongue on a bitchWater so clear I could see eighty feet downStingrays brushing up against my legs, playing aroundPoppin' Moet on a boat just to show 'em it's hopeThey all call me the big horse but they know I'm the G.O.A.T. (Lo)[Interlude: Nym Lo]I'm out here on a white sandbeach with wifey an my sonMe and him got on a matchin' Burberry trunksWifey Burberry down tooWhite niggas lookin' at us like ''Who the fuck is these niggas?How they get enough money to be where we at?''And we got the big villa, hahahaI'm gettin' money, nigga, LO[Verse 2: Nym Lo]Drawin' cargo name in the sand as he mimics my movesWhite couple walkin' by, stare at my jewels and ask what I doI say I'm a recording artist born in HarlemOut here with my son and my wife, just lovin' my lifeLong way from the block I was raised onBut when I'm on vacation, still drippy, nigga, tropical rain stormAt the swim up bar, sippin' Gonbay punchesSnuck up on me, had me hit 'cause it ain't even taste strongA nigga flow is bomb like napalmPut 35k on my base arm 'cause that's the one I scraped all the plates onI'm just payin' homage just like I promisedCracking oysters straight out the ocean, I was just at McDonald'sI, I come from humble beginningsWhere the ones you call friends'll yell out your lossesAnd mumble your winnings (Fuck this nigga)But I'm still one of the realest, coppin' foreigns up at the dealerYa raps is trash while I'm just gettin' litter, get it? (Lo)
