Welcome to the party where everybody dies at the end
Welcome to the party where everybody dies at the end
Move your body
This is 'bout to be a homicide scene
I think you are not mean when I scream
"Welcome to the party where everybody dies at the end"
Move your—
This is ’bout to be a homicide scеne
I think you are not mean whеn I scream
"Welcome—"

To another day, to another plot on my
mind 'cause I gots to get paid (Welcome)
I'd rather get paid than laid
If life hand me lemons
then it’s San Pellegrino lemonade (Welcome)
Baccarat glasses with chips on it
Women eatin' pasta on my clean Ann
Demeulemeester plates (Welcome)
I ain't got time for a date
If you'd like to see me
you gon' have to take a trip to my place
I used to want trucks with bricks in it
Even though I knew that it was probably a quick sentence
Semi-automatic on the dash to send a message
Send a hatin' nigga to the sky with no blessings
More money, more power, new hoes, no stressin'
Gettin' money, illegal? No way, but it’s temptin’

I— I'ma get this cash ’til I can't walk (Can't walk)
'Til I’m in a casket, never in the chalk (In the chalk)
You know we talk that slick talk
that slick talk (Slick talk)
You know we talk that slick talk
that slick talk (Slick talk)
We run this shit, y'all niggas walk
That's why she twerkin' all that ass when she take it off
You— you know we talk that slick talk
that slick talk (Slick talk)
You know we talk that slick talk, that slick talk

Do you understand what it feel like to
be on the other side of the gun? (Gun)
Which one? (Welcome)
The side where the barrel don't point (Point)
The side where your ass got a choice (Choice, welcome)
Or the side where you don't got a voice
You can act hard or keep your life and just rejoice

Welcome to the party where everybody dies at the end
Move your body
This is 'bout to be a homicide scene
I think you all know what I mean when—

I'm the boy to avoid, I might come off coy
But let your guard down and I turn into Floyd
Flah, flah, bah, nigga, that was light, next—
Flah, flah, everybody dies
Rest in peace, my mama, if you know me, you know why
And that would be the reason I'm the one you should not try
I used to be the one they used to call to get 'em high
Sellin'— at the colleges
just tryna get my money movin' at an inflated price
The things that I write, it is not for hype
The words I recite might've happened twice
Might've happened three, four times, maybe five
I'm the type of man that'll always do, never try
Before I fail tryna do, I would rather die
Even if it makes the ones that love me have to cry
Bye, bye, bye, bye, bye, bye, bye, bye (Flah, flah, bah)