Verse 1: Drake
Yeah, alright
Uhh,
Lowkey Peter Parker flow
Tell her bring some Ace of Spades no sparklers though
Private flights no hassle I just park and go
I'm the highlight like when markers glow
Oooooh, look what you created
Only got yourself to blame
I remember when you hated ooooh,
Now you tell me take my time,
How bout I just take your city make that motherfucker mine uh ha
I'm a underground king hoe
I sit tall I swing low
The game ain't always fair and that's the thing though
You can play your heart out everybody don't get a ring though
You are in the presence of a champion
Bout to get a condo that I can fit your mansion in
You always be calling her, she ain't never answering
You ain't figured out I am the reason that she canceling
I be at the parties where you stuck outside and can't come in
Call me Ron Bergundy ya'll the other anchormen
What's on the news trick, gossiping bout music
Cause rumours I'm the new shit
And guess what it's true bitch

Chorus:
We made it
We made it
We made it
They hate us
They hate us
They hate us
They hate us

Drake:
Find more similar lyrics on http://mp3lyrics.com/t5BuI feel like we made it
But we ain't made enough
It's so amazing
You woulda thought we made enough
Big Sean:
Man I was made to be greater
Made for the grind
Made for the lights
Made for the shine

Verse 2: Big Sean
Ay look,
I need less friends more bread
Less talk more head
Used to ride escorts now I get escorted (do it)
I'm just waiting on my cue dog no pledge
Said she like all girls I turn that bitch co-ed
Threw on my track team hand on my baton to her
Passed her blew her off, I chronic Veronica
Who got up on my nurse so I had to platonic her
No that ain't my girl but every leader needs a Monica
I'm the head of my estate ain't that ironic huh
I want the baddest chick to treat my stick like a thermometer
Ohh, I'm who they going ape shit over
I'm who your girlfriend acting like she ain't shit over
See broads over niggas but business over broads
See business equals money and money's over all
I'm tryna move my momma from the ghetto's to the meadows
Well she can't stay in that fucking hood forever, forever
Was made for that Mick Jagger shit baggage check and a chick
Fast girls, faster whip, big chains master shit
Bitch I'm living everyday month yearly
Yell until you motherfuckers hear me
We made it

Chorus