Stinky Money
Man, this menu's fucking weird
Yo, what the fuck is "beans on toast"?
Wait, hold up, hold up
Good evening, gentleman
What will you be having this evening?
Uh, you got no fries here?
Um, no, we do not have any fries I'm so sorry
Alright, I'll get the, uh, bangers and ass
Ah yes, and for you sir?
Yeah, I'll get the same shit
Ah, perfect, that'll be two orders of bangers and ass
Excellent choice
I got that rolly, my diamonds, they holy
Your girlfriend, below me, she sucking my baloney
Stinky money, stinky money, stinky money
Man, that shit's smelling funny
I got that stinky, ice on my pinky
Lexanis on my 'Ghini, I got that tiny weenie
Stinky money, stinky money, stinky money
And that shit's smelling funny
Yeah, pull up with the bag, I don't mean to brag
But I got them racks, smelling like a rag
Zeroes on the tags, light up, take a drag
Stinky like my cash, that shit make you gag (yah)
All this money laundered (yeah)
But it still smell like death (okay)
I wake up talking cheddar (uh), just call that morning breath (ha)
I stack this paper tall, them smelly, soggy racks, (ay)
My wallet on the table, she said, "Did you rip ass?"
She two-faced for the blue face, boy you can't trust these hoes (nuh-uh)
You want these bands, baby? Toucan Sam, bitch follow your nose
I got that rolly, my diamonds, they holy
Your girlfriend, below me, she sucking my baloney
Stinky money, stinky money, stinky money
Man, that shit's smelling funny
I got that stinky, ice on my pinky
Lexanis on my 'Ghini, I got that tiny weenie
Stinky money, stinky money, stinky money
And that shit's smelling funny
My money stinky as fuck, call that shit Pepé Le Pew
Got a hundred bands in my Louis bag,
Jack smell like a got a skunk in the coop
Now I got the feds in my whip
Looking for a pack in the glovebox
Covering they nose when they open up the duffle
Thinking that the motherfucker got gym socks
My bands be seasoned with stripper shit
That's what I like to call chocolate chips
Your bank account lookin' tore up
I got old bread, make you wanna throw up (uh)
Reach into my ass, pull out cash, you like, "Who the fuck?
That a damn deposit or some ten-year aged gouda, bitch?"
I got that, rolly, my diamonds, they holy
Your girlfriend, below me, she sucking my baloney
Stinky money, stinky money, stinky money
Man, that shit's smelling funny
I got that stinky, ice on my pinky
Lexanis on my 'Ghini, I got that tiny weenie
Stinky money, stinky money, stinky money
And that shit's smelling funny
Yo, what the fuck is "beans on toast"?
Wait, hold up, hold up
Good evening, gentleman
What will you be having this evening?
Uh, you got no fries here?
Um, no, we do not have any fries I'm so sorry
Alright, I'll get the, uh, bangers and ass
Ah yes, and for you sir?
Yeah, I'll get the same shit
Ah, perfect, that'll be two orders of bangers and ass
Excellent choice
I got that rolly, my diamonds, they holy
Your girlfriend, below me, she sucking my baloney
Stinky money, stinky money, stinky money
Man, that shit's smelling funny
I got that stinky, ice on my pinky
Lexanis on my 'Ghini, I got that tiny weenie
Stinky money, stinky money, stinky money
And that shit's smelling funny
Yeah, pull up with the bag, I don't mean to brag
But I got them racks, smelling like a rag
Zeroes on the tags, light up, take a drag
Stinky like my cash, that shit make you gag (yah)
All this money laundered (yeah)
But it still smell like death (okay)
I wake up talking cheddar (uh), just call that morning breath (ha)
I stack this paper tall, them smelly, soggy racks, (ay)
My wallet on the table, she said, "Did you rip ass?"
She two-faced for the blue face, boy you can't trust these hoes (nuh-uh)
You want these bands, baby? Toucan Sam, bitch follow your nose
I got that rolly, my diamonds, they holy
Your girlfriend, below me, she sucking my baloney
Stinky money, stinky money, stinky money
Man, that shit's smelling funny
I got that stinky, ice on my pinky
Lexanis on my 'Ghini, I got that tiny weenie
Stinky money, stinky money, stinky money
And that shit's smelling funny
My money stinky as fuck, call that shit Pepé Le Pew
Got a hundred bands in my Louis bag,
Jack smell like a got a skunk in the coop
Now I got the feds in my whip
Looking for a pack in the glovebox
Covering they nose when they open up the duffle
Thinking that the motherfucker got gym socks
My bands be seasoned with stripper shit
That's what I like to call chocolate chips
Your bank account lookin' tore up
I got old bread, make you wanna throw up (uh)
Reach into my ass, pull out cash, you like, "Who the fuck?
That a damn deposit or some ten-year aged gouda, bitch?"
I got that, rolly, my diamonds, they holy
Your girlfriend, below me, she sucking my baloney
Stinky money, stinky money, stinky money
Man, that shit's smelling funny
I got that stinky, ice on my pinky
Lexanis on my 'Ghini, I got that tiny weenie
Stinky money, stinky money, stinky money
And that shit's smelling funny
Credits
Writer(s): Garrett Spach, Noel Millar, Cody Kolodziejzyk
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
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