The Hill

Lord, I need some commas on my bank account
Dollars, yeah, a big amount
All these niggas passing by, going up
They don't even need to know what's rap to be blowing up
Guess I should be dropping lines like commas on my bank account
Dollars, yeah, a big amount

All these niggas passing by, going up
They don't even need to know what's rap to be blowing up
Guess I should be dropping lines like commas on my bank account
Dollars, yeah, a big amount

All these niggas passing by, going up
They don't even need to know what's rap to be blowing up
Guess I should be dropping lines like commas on my bank account
Dollars, yeah, a big amount
All these niggas passing by, going up
They don't even need to know what's rap to be blowing up
Guess I should be dropping lines like

Fuck them Gucci, Louis pants
I don't give a fuck 'bout no stupid brands
Nigga got his own style from the motherland
Baby mama can't stop with that cuddling
Work that coochie 'til it's red
That's why she doesn't talk to her stupid man
Her belly full of my guys, now they're puddling
She ain't even my type, bro, it's troubling

Too much, I don't know how to stop (come here)
New crush, damn, they all wanna fuck (Tommy)
Do a bunch, then I'm back on my stuff (plotting)
Few of us, just a few for a spot (coming)

Lord, I need some commas on my bank account
Dollars, yeah, a big amount
All these niggas passing by, going up
They don't even need to know what's rap to be blowing up
Guess I should be dropping lines like commas on my bank account
Dollars, yeah, a big amount
All these niggas passing by, going up
They don't even need to know what's rap to be blowing up
Guess I should be dropping lines like-



Credits
Writer(s): Hugo Dubery, Tom Renié Harris
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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