Lyrics:

Originally titled, “God Damn” Pharrell was told that the title would make the song impossible to market in the Bible Belt where he is from.
Now they saying we too harsh!
New verses, please! C'mon!

Hot damn! It's a new day!
Hot damn! But them boys want the (money, man)
Hoo-oooo, hoo-oooo
Hoo-oooo (What you say, what you say?)
Hot damn!

My, how the boy's grown
From roaming low-income homes to homes of his own
No catching up, he's in a whole another zone
Still true to his roots, stay close to the chrome
Haters stay clear of 'em, y'all stand cheer for him
Got up out the game and overcame, let's hear it for him
Keep a new toy, so I wonder how could
I not enjoy life, I'm reliving my childhood
Big chain monster, whip game bonkers
Monster truck, remind him of Tonka
Diamond F color, plush gold, still gutter
My deal is in the mils, motherfucker, and I ain't stutter
Bittersweet, my life's a musical
From holding nose to rose gold, the Lord's beautiful
Before him, I'm too shamed to show my face
But shit's so mean can't help but to fall from grace, motherfucker

Hot damn! It's a new day!
Hot damn! But them boys want the (money, man)
Hoo-oooo, hoo-oooo
Hoo-oooo (What you say, what you say?)
Hot damn!

Hot damn, when the white hit the pan, it
Twists and it tumbles, it flips and it fumbles
I mix it like gumbo, I pitch it so subtle, I
Keep hustlers puzzled, Feds, I got 'em wondering
(Wondering) 'What happened to that boy?'
Six maneuver, how'd I slip into that toy?
Is it the pimp, the crook, the hustler thing?
The man, the music, they're making a king
I'm simply building my mink, a million men marching like 'Khan
The King Kong of verse, making the world sing
My heart's on the sleeve for dark faces just like mine
Peeking through bars, hoping the sun shines on 'em
But you still got to watch the phonies
Watch your homies, we {*gunshots*} got you, homie

Hot damn! It's a new day!
Hot damn! But them boys want the (money, man)
Hoo-oooo, hoo-oooo
Hoo-oooo (What you say, what you say?)
Hot damn!

Yuugh, handled the rock like none other
Wrist over the stove, head under the cupboard
In the kitchen 'til the fume make me feel smothered
The way it melt, fiends can't believe it's not butter
The way it melt, he won't cop from none other
Then he who holds O's like Krispy Kreme's oven
Or Easy Bake, pink DBs make
The Presidential look like strawberry shortcake – P
Imagine that Rolls-Royce crashed and me unscratched
In that Billionaire Boys Club fashion
Uh, you niggas is clones, 
I hand out styles like ice cream cones – the fuck outta here
That's for real, my gats is real, 
SL 5 is lookin like the Batmobile
Chrome lips with the matching wheels, uh
Both chains probably match your deal
Y'all dudes is an act for real, Pusha

Hot damn! It's a new day!
Hot damn! But them boys want the (money, man)
Hoo-oooo, hoo-oooo
Hoo-oooo (What you say, what you say?)
Hot damn!

Neither the sun or death can be looked at, that's what a O.G. told me
That was the exact moment I decided to take a pack
And if you owe me, and if I decided to take it back, 
It wasn't nicely, expect Roscoe to put you back –
In place, I'm on what you call a destructive warpath
It'll be shell showers in today's forecast
You a gangsta? I can't tell
Your diamonds don't glimmer when the light hit it
Those jewels aren't genuine, 
Because if they was – I'm nice with it, I would'a been took that
That skinny stack in your pocket, I would'a been shook that
In this world, you gotta watch it, I'm hear to warn ya
Cats turn informer, over snow wrapped in wax
My son's home cryin', don't give me no slack
Just put the motherfucking money in the bag
These words are being said as I hide behind glove and mask
Coldchain's not your typical crook, 
I'm being watched – look
At the camera lens and push

Hot damn! It's a new day!
Hot damn! But them boys want the (money, man)
Hoo-oooo, hoo-oooo
Hoo-oooo (What you say, what you say?)
Hot damn!