Frosty
Don't you cross me
Don't you cross me
Don't you cross me
I be partying with people from the floor seats
I be seeing bitches showing titties from the nosebleeds
I'm spending fat checks on skunk pack
In the matte black coupe, Imma get it back
Ay, ay, ay, ayy
Don't you cross me
Don't you know I'm big boss of the posse
*Bling*
Stars up on my roof, that shit cost me
100k on my wrist keep me frosty
Yea
Running up checks while they scared
Yea
Got too many bills up in here
Yea
I ain't signing deals up in here
Yea
Mixing shake with the kill up in here
Yea
It's getting real up in here
I pop a pill up in here
I mix the thrills with the chills and the fears
Call me Mr. Moneybags
Gotta keep a couple sacs
Gotta stuff a couple duffels in the leer
I flee the crime scene at high speed
so they don't see me dipping from the feds
Rolling dro and pouring 4, I'm feeling high and low
From the green and purple meds
Burning kerosine, I flood the scene
With diamond rings, expensive things
Now Rogy on they head
Yea, I'm doing shows and pulling hoes
I'm wearing all designer clothes, I'm toting poles
I'm going finer places you ain't heard of before
Fat pack and its gas serve it out like a store
Fat cash in a flash, I can make a lil more
Do the dash, money dash, take it 'till it won't fold
All these bitches wanna run up my digits, but I done told 'em
I'm too busy raking in the riches 'till I'm older
Man, I got a vision, not no wishing, premonition
Me and the gang cooking up, ain't no mother fucking kitchen
Can't be taking my time, grind on my mind
Grab on the 9, serve dimes, and they pay me a fine
Go, go
I done made a bag
Hoe, hoe
I done spent a bag
Go, go
I done made it back
Hoe, hoe
Now watch me whip the jag
Go, go
I done made a bag
Hoe, hoe
Don't you cross me
Don't you cross me
I be partying with people from the floor seats
I be seeing bitches showing titties from the nosebleeds
I'm spending fat checks on skunk pack
In the matte black coupe, Imma get it back
Ay, ay, ay, ayy
Don't you cross me
Don't you know I'm big boss of the posse
*Bling*
Stars up on my roof, that shit cost me
100k on my wrist keep me frosty
Yea
Running up checks while they scared
Yea
Got too many bills up in here
Yea
I ain't signing deals up in here
Yea
Mixing shake with the kill up in here
Yea
It's getting real up in here
I pop a pill up in here
I mix the thrills with the chills and the fears
Call me Mr. Moneybags
Gotta keep a couple sacs
Gotta stuff a couple duffels in the leer
I flee the crime scene at high speed
so they don't see me dipping from the feds
Rolling dro and pouring 4, I'm feeling high and low
From the green and purple meds
Burning kerosine, I flood the scene
With diamond rings, expensive things
Now Rogy on they head
Yea, I'm doing shows and pulling hoes
I'm wearing all designer clothes, I'm toting poles
I'm going finer places you ain't heard of before
Fat pack and its gas serve it out like a store
Fat cash in a flash, I can make a lil more
Do the dash, money dash, take it 'till it won't fold
All these bitches wanna run up my digits, but I done told 'em
I'm too busy raking in the riches 'till I'm older
Man, I got a vision, not no wishing, premonition
Me and the gang cooking up, ain't no mother fucking kitchen
Can't be taking my time, grind on my mind
Grab on the 9, serve dimes, and they pay me a fine
Go, go
I done made a bag
Hoe, hoe
I done spent a bag
Go, go
I done made it back
Hoe, hoe
Now watch me whip the jag
Go, go
I done made a bag
Hoe, hoe
Credits
Writer(s): Keano Rogers
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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