100, 20, 10 Fives

Good one Richard
Yeah, Ricky, let it rip
That's like 50 thousand on my neck right there
Ricky P engineered too
That's the combo
Everybody don't get the combo, haha
Some niggas just get the sandwich
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
24hrs
Yeah, yeah, ooh

Hunnids, 20s, tens, fives
Me and all my guys
Yeah, hunnids, tens, 20s, 50s, woah
Yeah, your SIs lookin' pitiful, woah

Learn the game, don't let the game learn you
The money counter, it can count it fast
Bigger crib with a better view
High ceilings, I'm just watchin' True (Hoo)
Take my time, but just know I'm comin', yeah
Overtime, the money kept me runnin'
Maneuver through the weather
Duckin', dodgin' all the static
Ten years, know that I've been at it
Me and Ricky automatic, yeah
Got the crib with the pool in it
Pittsburgh, nigga, coolin' shit
Ricky hit my phone, told him gon' and drop the addy
I'ma pull up with my baddie, yeah

Hunnids, 20s, tens, fives
Me and all my guys
Yeah, hunnids, tens, 20s, 50s, woah
Yeah, your SIs lookin' pitiful

Uh, we want it all, we want the home run
Man, I seen it, then I got it, had to own one
Now I'm shinin', guess it's perfect timin'
We left from Burbank, but we landin' on an island
You wanna show off, I can tell when you be stylin'
We sip the Henny, I can tell when you start wildin'
Recorder on, hit her with my pointers on
Recorder on, hit her with my pointers on

Hunnids, 20s, tens, fives
Me and all my guys
Yeah, hunnids, tens, 20s, 50s, woah
Yeah, your SIs lookin' pitiful



Credits
Writer(s): Robert Davis, Westen Broek Weiss, Mackenzie Allen Stotts
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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