text: Hey yo
  Aint nobody left for us man, shit
  Last one standing
  Lace up! Black Flag!
  Bad Boy, bitch!
  Hey yo, its lonely at the top
  Hey yo Kells, hey yo Kells are you ready?
  Hey yo Kells, get these motherfuckers
  Ahh!
  All of yall better wake up now
  Everyones a little late right now
  Keep it real, Im a little hot
  How the fuck you gonna hate right now?
  Remember my first single?
  Chyea well its doing great right now
  Took a five hundred thou out the gate
  Straight to the bank right now
  Shit gets wicked in my city so I got a semi in a race right now
  Everybody fuckin with me and if you aint then you outta place right now
  Everybody aint real, everybody cant be us
  Everybody stay losin, that makes us champions
  I take that title, til they wave like tidal
  Introducin me to Billie Jean, shit Ill take that Michael
  Tryin bring the paper in, my paper thin like that Bible
  That is how you win, stackin Benjamins til its big as the Eiffel
  Uh
  We are the champions my friends
  And well keep on fighting till the end
  We are the champions
  We are the champions
  No time for losers
  Cause we are the champions of the world
  I came straight from sellin nickel bags
  Out my baby mama pad just to get a meal
  Straight from puttin Similac in a Walmart bag tryin make a steal
  Straight from burnin 1 thousand CDs with my name on it
  Opposite of what the game wanted, muhfucka we just tryin get a mill
  Now the Shaker grad boy signed to the Bad Boy
  But I aint gettin cheesecake, no this aint Making of the Band homeboy
  What is that my bitch? God damn she Colombian homeboy?
  Ever since I got some bands homeboy, haters tryin be my friends homeboy
  Pull up in that tour bus everybody know whats going on in there
  Backroom lotta panties droppin, lotta pretty bitches, pretty long hair
  Ima talk my shit, bitch I came into the game as rookie of the year
  Blake Griffin, Kyrie, Amare Stoudemire
  Yeah and still couple people gotta problem with me at hater magazine
  I mean Fader magazine, tell the journalist to suck whats in my saggin jeans
  Choke muhfucka, choke, none of my fans opened up your fuckin magazine
  Lucky I dont have Jermaine come up in your office and load up a fuckin magazine
  Charlemagne dont like me, whats his name wont fight me
  Im a hype individual, God damn it, hypebeats hype me
  Maybe cause I wasnt a good kid in a mad city like Kendrick
  I was just a little bad motherfucker beggin landlords to be tenant
  Beggin everyone to give my song a listen, tryin get up out a shitty job position
  Tryin get a 24 karat gold toilet, cause I never had a pot to piss in
  But its ok Im still maintaining
  No, no, no
  No fuck that, fuck maintaining
  Im tired of being humble
  It time to let these industry muhfuckas know, man
  I wake up and I see four MTV awards on my dresser that I got this year
  Im rollin up Js as long as my fucking shoe on a gold plaque
  Lace the fuck up!
  
  Champions! Bad Boy!
  Lace Up! Black Flag!
  Never, never, never give up
  We see you at the top, baby
  We will be waiting there with a ice cold glass of lemonade and Cîroc
  And a couple of bad bitches to massage your feet, cause thats how we do
  If you make it, youre welcome
  Champions
  Get down or lay down