1m 11sLength

Lyrics: Bo$$-Key-Yacht$ lets go, got that R,for y'all, that real Spit. Uhh! They call me Bo$$-Key-Yacht$, the Harlem Saint. My pockets fulla fat knots makin' all the ladies drop. Paint these street corners green. My bank notes the colorfield scene. Half man, half amazin'! Call me semi-odd the demi-gogue, halo crowned with a dollar sign. Gutter Pulpit of Ghetto Saint with grand designs, call me focus. Before the Bo$$-Key-Yacht$ the streets was hopeless. I'm dat Harlem Saint paintin' pictures, makin' new kinda scrilla bankin' up to 12 figures! Call me Bo$$-Key-Yacht$, pockets full of fat knots. Dusk til' Dawn, your boy makes the streets POP! Got it on lock, but it dont stop, make it hot. Love it when dem honeys bounce when they on top ahhh! Bo$$-Key-Yacht$, a yacht on the seven seas makin' waves 'til the world knows me. Bo$$-Key-Yacht$, my pockets go deep. I dive in the honeys, get up and than creep. I'm on my hustle and grind 'n' grind. I'm all about my money; no time for playin' games when this game aint funny.