Money

She want me cause a nigga got money
Dropped out of school but I'm not no dummy
I'm off of Perc's all the way to its sunny
These niggas broke man that shit so funny
Racks on racks on racks
We the one claiming that hat
Bullets gone stamp them like it's a tat'

Why you talking we don't do the chatting
When you see me better have the gun that you posting
Slugger locked up in that cell he joking
Off them Roxy's yea I really be floating
Put your wig on man it's time to get smart
Diamonds light up even when it be dark
I'm trying fuck I don't care about your heart
New whip ain't no key for the start
Ghost Glocks ain't no name on the parts

Soon as they book me I'm finally post bail
Ride with them killers that's never going to tell
We up in Saks finally hit up Chanel
Buckles on my pants you see Alyx
At the jewelry store finally take out some links
Getting fat benihanas good eats
If jay of them perc's, he not finally sleep
Trying to catch an Opp and knock them off of his feet
Thirty clip hanging fuck what you saying
Fuck that little clique that you say you banging
He ain't get touched? Let me make an arrangement
You ain't never did nothing to the niggas you dissing
So what's that little shit you be claiming
Thought these rap niggas was some gangsters
But really and truly they some entertainers
Louis or Pucci the framers
That pussy nigga hate his makers
Said he gone kill us little bitch come and take us
Slide in that Bentley yea that be the taker
Hop in Track' bitch I'll see you later
Big stupid crib sitting on them acres
Lil nigga hollering about he finally spank us
Heard about him yea little Kay-B dangerous



Credits
Writer(s): Unknown Writer, Jakobe Mcneil, Romello Robinson
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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