| Yao |
| Yao |
| Yao Ming |
| Yao, Yao Ming |
| Yao |
| Ming |
| Let’s bring it back, though |
| I know God love me every day, He drop a bag, though |
| Never chasing money, it’s just something I attract, though |
| Business on the golf course, millions on these back fours |
| Blame it on my pops 'cause I came for the top, no |
| I came up off the top rope, elbow to your noggin |
| She gon' make the block woke, when she get her back broke |
| I know what to ask for, I’m the one she jockin' |
| I’m the one she jack, though |
| I know how that ass slow down then it fast forward |
| I don’t love her back, though |
| She gon' feel away and tell the city where I’m at, though |
| Bitches tryna line me, but I’m not a map, though |
| I am not a flagpole, you not finna climb me |
| I am not a tadpole, but a nigga slimey |
| I been getting money since a youngin' with consignment |
| Niggas take a crib out, they just study the assignment |
| They say money blinding, bitch, I’m Helen Keller |
| In a Pelle Pelle leather feeling deader to the better days |
| Wish we could rewind them |
| Peanut Butter, '63, I wish that you could sit with me |
| You played yourself and fade away, damn |
| Oh, how the mighty have fallen |
| I thought as I laid on the ground |
| Made my way back on my own |
| Fuck would I need from you now? |
| Zaza, I’m ET, phone home |
| See you boys on my way down |
| If you could see how I’ve grown |
| Money stacked taller than Yao |
| Yao |
| Yao |
| Yao Ming |
| Yao, Yao Ming |
| Yeah |
| Yao, Yao, Yao |
| Yao Ming |
| Yao, Yao Ming |
| Yeah |