Money in the Bag

Indian my gold around my neck just like a noose
My piece got a piece he left wit eighteen of them jewels
I am not a thief but flip some off you when I loot
Courier k5 when I'm back home spilt on my shoes
All my homies know that we gon get to work in June
Song into lucciano when I'm up in the booth

True religion jean, true religion jean, uh
Louis on my belt them mike amiri jean, uh
Your girl for the team, your jawn for the team
She like givenchy, she like that blue cheese

She said she think she hearing things, amiri jeans
I had to count my yellow bands back at BNB
Got so much tree out here I should sell shit overseas
But I got way more cousins here that should go flip a g

Flip the G
Shawty not for me
She just wanna play these games like it's Jumanji

She be telling me
Do it all for retweets
Leave her on DND
Feeling like Fred Van Vleet

Oh yeah
Got the BNB for the weekend
Bands all on me for the season

Articuno all on my wrist
Money big looking like Fisk
Spending all my cash on my bitch
Man you tryna be me bitch you not slick

You ain't copped this
I unlocked this
Bitch My drip be like Niagara
And yo drip look like a faucet

Yo diamonds making me so nauseous
Tell y'all fakers please take caution
You could quit that is an option
There only room for so much greatness so I'll put y'all in the coffin



Credits
Writer(s): Eduardo Carrera
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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