This for The (feat. Quando Rondo)

Ooh! Ooh!
Slime! Ey!

This for them bitches who thinkin' they real, but really they fake
This for them niggas who think that
they thuggin', but really the ain't
This for them niggas that really be trappin' up out the ra-a-ain
I married that choppa you know that she wit it
I call her my ba-a-ae
These niggas ain't shit, yea, don't know why they hatin' on me
I'ma run up that money, I still be stuntin'
Got blue faced hunnits on me
I'ma keep goin' in and they keep on comin'
Lotta faces on me
I'm chasing that money, from Monday to Sunday
Got a big bank on me

I do the dash in the winter, young nigga fly like propella (brrr)
DJ Khaled, man I need me another one
When we do it, do it better
No, I'm not writing no letter
NBA new Rockafeller
These bitches ain't shit, wanna suck on my dick
Find out that she fucked my nigga
She raising her voice when I battle
She tell me to go out, go faster
I think that I'm losing my stamina
I think that I need me a challenger
Back at it again, just me and twins
Tag teamin' her friend, we having her
She said that she real but I know that she fake
Lil' shorty ain't told me no capping her.
This for them bitches that's thinking they real
but really they fake
This for them niggas that's thinking they thugging
But really they ain't
This for them niggas that really be choppin' up outta the Wraith

I married that choppa you know that she wit it
I call her my ba-a-ae
These niggas ain't shit, yea, don't know why they hatin' on me
I'ma run up that money, I still be stuntin'
Got blue faced hunnits on me
I'ma keep goin' in and they keep on comin'
Lotta faces on me
I'm chasing that money, from Monday to Sunday
Got a big bank on me

Too many bags in my bank account
A lot of blue hunnids in large amounts
Got a brick of some dope
put that shit on the boat
When it comes to that money we ain't running off
No money buried in the Federal
Niggas hate but they ain't on my level though
I swear that they know that I'm combatible
Smoking gelato and sipping on medical (brrrrrah)
I'm really a felon still gripping the L, I might catch me a case
Pull up to the show in a brand new Benz and we leave in a Wraith
I told all my niggas there's no new friends, all these niggas be fake
I got out my feelings and got in the bag, put racks in the s-a-a-a-afe

All my niggas be crippin' they love them blue benji's
I run and and check up again, that's why they envy
Every day I be dripping this brand new Balenci's
My strap made by Louis my shoes they DaVinci
My girl like the Gucci but I like the Fendi
This that Deuce my cup I don't fuck with the Henny
This new chain round my neck cost a brand new penny
If you try to go take it get hit with a semi

I want the money
I want designer
I want that bitch 'cause she looking fine now
I want the Louis
I want the Fendi
I mix Chanel belts with Givenchy

He caught me that in that rap
So no I can't sign him
He forgot I was on so I had to remind him
I got lost on the sauce everyday, I'd be grinding
Bust out Rollie perfect timing

'Cos this for them bitches that's thinking they real
but really they fake
This for them niggas that's thinking they thugging
But really they ain't
This for them niggas that really be choppin' up outta the Wraith

I married that choppa you know that she wit it
I call her my ba-a-ae
These niggas ain't shit, yea, don't know why they hatin' on me
I'ma run up that money, I still be stuntin'
Got blue faced hunnits on me
I'ma keep goin' in and they keep on comin'
Lotta faces on me
I'm chasing that money, from Monday to Sunday
Got a big bank on me



Credits
Writer(s): Kentrell Gaulden, Dyllan Mckinney, Tyquian Bowman
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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