Cold Cuts

Count a lotta money on my ones
I don't gotta fight, just use a gun
I been with your bitch, we having fun
Put all of my kids up in her gut
Turn a pussy boy to cold cuts
Baggy jeans, wallets stuffed
She loving me, can't have enough
There's only me, there ain't no us

Ruthless, body spill
Nigga way too lil
On my body, chills
She reckless, she keep popping pills
Racks is way too much, I cannot count em up
Shawty talk a lot but she got the stuff
So pristine, she ain't got no muff
In the bed, beat her box

Go hard for the team
Make sure we all clean
Back to back for beans
Tryna be a king
I know right or wrong
But I don't give a fuck
Stack my money up
Bitches come to us

Count a lotta money on my ones
I don't gotta fight, just use a gun
I been with your bitch, we having fun
Put all of my kids up in her gut
Turn a pussy boy to cold cuts
Baggy jeans, wallets stuffed
She loving me, can't have enough
There's only me, there ain't no us

If you doubted me, don't act like you my bro
Bullets hit, make his body cold
Cut him up, chop his block
Turn around, we turning up

Baddies hit my phone, see the incline
Her boyfriend going down, she wanna be mine
Cut her off so quick
I just live my life
Going on the road, money upping nice
Diamonds on the gold, diamonds shining bold
I could fuck your girl, on my life, that's for sure
I pull up, these bitches scream, yeah I know
I just want some dome

Count a lotta money on my ones
I don't gotta fight, just use a gun
I been with your bitch, we having fun
Put all of my kids up in her gut
Turn a pussy boy to cold cuts
Baggy jeans, wallets stuffed
She loving me, can't have enough
There's only me, there ain't no us



Credits
Writer(s): Jimi Olayinka
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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