[Intro: Nas]
Oh, oh, oh, oh
Oh-oh-oh-oh
Yeah
[Verse 1: Nas]
Laced at Macy’s, don’t have it, a hatred addict
I need faces mad with frowns when I’m around, or I’m wastin’ fabric
I don’t feel great until my plush pieces cause you to suck your teeth
So mean-muggin’ on my clean-thuggin’ mean nothin’
Women, dream I’m your husband
I’m Alex Pushkin, the Black poetry-writin’ Russian, ice disgustin’
I started bling, how could you question my direction
Or my Tom Ford collection? Gangstas two-steppin’
You hate me, should thank me
But lately, I burn so much trees, I keep environmentalists angry
I’m a rare dude, I’m a wonder
Your best success is my worst blunder
Y’all livin’ trendy on pennies, I cop plenty Fendi
Vivienne Westwood, I’m good
Get the whole Trump Tower top floor for the hood
Dre and Cool (This is), we ridin’ heavy
NY to Miami ’cause
[Chorus: Chris Brown, Nas]
We make the world go ’round
Now let’s toast to the hustlers
We make the world go ’round
Tell the hustlers, toast to the gangstas
We make the world go ’round
Tell the gangstas to toast to the ballers
We make the world go ’round
And tell the ballers, pour a glass for all us
We make the world go ’round
[Verse 2: The Game, Chris Brown]
I see the haters on the floor jockin’ my swag
I’m poppin’ Ralph Lauren tags and pourin’ champagne inside a Polo glass
Model bitches rollin’ grass, Escobar unfoldin’ cash
Toastin’ with my entourage, went from robbin’ armored cars
To all my stars, red carpet to the L’Ermitage
We throwin’ red dice at the Mirage
I pull that red Lamborghini on twenties out my garage
Set up shop in South Beach like Khaled and Terror Squad (We The Best!)
Big pimpin’, top down, chrome spinnin’
Top Gun, Tom Cruise tucked inside my Gucci linen
No ****, just Romo
You tryna shine, I put the nine on your jersey for promo
Jessica Simpson, that’s so-so
Nick want his (Baby back), but that’s Loso
Tell Hawaii Five-O to catch me at the Pro Bowl
On the field, diamonds chokin’ the jockey on my Polo
CB, let ’em know though
[Chorus: Chris Brown, Nas]
We make the world go ’round
Tell the hustlers, toast to the gangstas
We make the world go ’round
Tell the gangstas to toast to the ballers
We make the world go ’round
And tell the ballers, pour a glass for all us
We make the world go ’round
[Bridge: Chris Brown]
We make the world go ’round
From my town to your town
We on top, no stoppin’ us now
We got Patrón, the ballers two-stepping
Ladies on the floor and all ’em two-stepping
From L.A. to Harlem, two-steppin’
(From L.A. to Harlem, two-steppin’)
So iced out, it’s easy to point them haters out
[Verse 3: Nas]
We start with Bellini’s and end with Patrón shots
H. Lorenzo, belt buckle from Chrome Heart
A-Life tag popper, it’d be sad not to walk out the store with bags
Worth a hundred cash, shoppin’
Violence only when have to, have to swell you up
Prefer peach Schnaps, Perrier-Jouët, a vanilla dutch
Mets cap, that’s Queens, I’m a vet
Bet that three hundred carats the average up on the neck, black
Paid the cost, be the boss, Black Caesar floss
Weekends at the Venetian, pull up in that black Porsche
Top down, new fashion
Seein’ me’s like seein’ through the lens of Helmut Newton’s camera light flashin’
And I’m laughin’, my plaques’ from album sales
Y’all is ringtone platinum, but ninety-nine cents adds up
I don’t hate ’em, I congratulate ’em
The new young Prince with young Mike Jackson on the same track
What?
[Chorus: Nas, Chris Brown]
Now let’s toast to the hustlers
We make the world go ’round
Tell the hustlers, toast to the gangstas
We make the world go ’round
Tell the gangstas to toast to the ballers
We make the world go ’round
And tell the ballers, pour a glass for all us
We make the world go ’round
[Outro]
Oh, oh, oh
Oh-oh
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