[Intro: Swizz Beatz]
I got a million ways to get it (uh-huh, geah)
... Choose one (choose one, hey)
Ay, bring it back, bring it back (uh-huh)
Now double your money and make a stack
I'm on to the next one, on to the next one
I'm on to the next one, on to the next one
I'm on to the next one, on to the next one
I'm on to the next one, on to the next one
(Hold up) Freeze! Ay!
Somebody bring me back the money please, hey.

[Verse 1:]
Hov' on that new shit, niggas like "How come?"
Niggas want my old shit, buy my old albums
Niggas stuck on stupid, I gotta keep it movin'
Niggas make the same shit, me I make The Blueprint
Came in the Range, hopped out the Lexus
Every year since, I been on that next shit
Traded in the gold for the platinum Rolexes
Now a nigga wrist match the status of my records
Used to rock a throwback, ballin on the corner
Now I rock a tailored suit, lookin like a owner
No I'm not a Jonas, Brother I'm a grown up
No I'm not a virgin, I use my cojones
I move onward, the only direction
Can't be scared to fail in the search of perfection
Gotta keep it fresh girl, even when we sexin
But don't be mad at him when it's on to the next one.

[Hook]

[Verse 2:]
Fuck a throwback jersey cause we on to the next one
And fuck that Auto-Tune cause we *onnnnn*
And niggas don't be mad cause it's all about progression
Loiterers should be arrested
I used to drink Cristal, the muh'fucker's racist
So I switched gold bottles on to that Spade shit
You gon' have another drink or you just gon' baby-sit
On to the next one, somebody call the waitress
Baby I'm a boss, I don't know what they do
I don't get dropped, I drop the label
World can't hold me, too much ambition
Always knew it'd be like this when I was in the kitchen
Niggas in the same spot, me I'm dodgin raindrops
Meanin I'm on vacay, chillin on a big yacht
Yeah I got on flip-flops, white Louie boat shoes
Y'all should grow the fuck up, c'mere let me coach you
Hold up.

[Hook]

[Verse 3:]
Uhh, Big Pimpin' in the house now
Bought the land, tore the muh'fuckin house down
Bought the car, tore the muh'fuckin roof off
Ride clean, I don't ever take the shoes off
Bought the jeep, tore the muh'fuckin doors off
Foot out that bitch, ride the shit like a skateboard
Navigation on, tryin to find my next thrill
Feelin myself, I don't even need an X pill
Can't chill but my neck will
Haters really gon' be mad off my next deal
Uhh, I don't know why they worry 'bout my pockets
Meanwhile I had Oprah chillin in the projects
Had her out in Bed-Stuy, chillin on the steps
Drinkin quarter waters, I gotta be the best
M.J. at Summer Jam, Obama on the text
Y'all should be afraid of what I'm gon' do next
Hold up.

[Hook]