DJ Khaled, we're the best, nigga we're the best man
Listen
Woo we nikka

Just got a hundred of that brown-paper-bag money
You niggas really wanna talk money?
Shit real, that's all I can tell 'em
Just wrap 'em up good so the dogs can't smell 'em
Come on

Brown paper bag
Yo Khaled I'm so focused homie
(Thank God for that)
Brown paper bag
I can see clearly now you all ready know what it is
That's my boo

Thank God for those days, thank God for those nights
Though it might seem wrong, thank God for that white
They used to call me "the Pyrex kid"
A.K.A. Young Arm and Hammer
In the kitchen with the pots, yeah I work the glass
Hard on 'em, pimp, yeah I work 'em tass
And when they came in, we unpacked 'em all
Broke 'em all down and unwrapped 'em all
Just two words nigga: "duffel bag"
I just know it so well, can't help but brag
Gold Mouth got 10, Mel Man got 3
It's just your luck the rap game got me, hold up

Here we go again
Just spent a hundred of that brown-paper-bag money, all on Timbs
And the bad bitches all on him
'Cause the cars that he drives are all foreign
The game is mine, I'm so far in
I'm speaking with an accent you just caught wind
Can't even relax in my room
That brown-paper-bag money push my mattress through the roof
This' for my niggas getting brown-paper-bag money
This' for my strippers getting black-plastic-bag money
We're talking 'bout that bad money
That IRS can't tax money, you dig me?

Just made a hundred of that brown-paper-bag money
I thank God for the mill he prepared for me
Take care my fam and my little dog, money
Thank God for that brown paper bag, that

Brown paper bag
Brown paper bag
Brown paper bag
Brown paper bag

Just pulled over in my CM 5
Big bottle on the dash, hope he let me slide
Got 20 in the trunk, you can bet me five
20 minutes and they dump, I'mma let these fly
We're the best! Look at what we drive
Got picnic tables on my lap, getting high
In the back of the Maybach, and it cost five
Hundred thou' and a nigga spent that with a smile
Stacking numbers at alarming rates
White house, still move a brick of raw in a day
I'm that Bin Laden boy, I'll bomb your state
I ain't come to stay, I got a post bar and a date
Two million in a bag, ain't one to brag
You don't know the feeling when the villain peeling in a Jag'
Just staring at the ceiling, ten women at your pad
I was at the center, now I see villain just in fact, I'm a Boss

Just spent a hundred of that brown-paper-bag money
It feels good to be Young Money, Cash Money
Rehab, I'm addicted to fast money
I got stacks of rubber bands up in that

Brown paper bag (thank God for that)
Brown paper bag
Brown paper bag (thank God for that)
Brown paper bag

Practice make perfect, I'm relaxing at rehearsal
I'm a motherfucking professional, like Herschel
Walker, the talk of the game, is I
But I wonder will they still be talking after I die
But that's not important, money's more important
And understand I been in that water like I was snorkeling
Understand I been in that water like I'm a dolphin
Miami, Khaled took me in like an orphan
Why did they start him, now they can't park him
I go into the booth and just change like Clark Kent
Lamborghini dark tint, Philly blunt cigar scent
I'm by myself 'cause niggas run their mouths like auctions
T-Street's my brother, FeFe's my brother
And we stay on point like a fucking box cutter
You heard what I say, motherfucker did I stutter
With my brown paper bag here to represent the hustle, I'm out

Coka baby, man you know I already had money
Definition of that brown-paper-bag money
Try front and I'll zip you in a bag, money
For the cash, I'll blast anybody, that

Brown paper bag (thank God for that)
Brown paper bag
Brown paper bag (thank God for that)
Brown paper bag

Ya'll niggas want coca music
Lacostra Nostra flow, show you how to do this
Pin it so easy, a caveman could do it
Nigga, we simply the best, don't confuse it
I confuse it, critics be hating
Best album yet, don't give me the same rating
I'm waiting top of Rap Rushmore
Etched in stone, right beside Pun's noy
Unsure, anything's possible
4 mill spent, bought out the Art Basel
I'm Picasso in a Versace suit
Don't worry my nigga, Khaled I got you
Not just 'cause I want to, 'cause I got to
Put the squad on your back, the impossible
It's only logical to spit it from the heart
Brown paper bag, who else but Joe the God?
That

Brown paper bag (thank God for that)
Brown paper bag