Rick & Mort

Trippin' on this mf, nigga
Money Train

Trippin' by myself, I almost lost count
I count 40,000, why you have to count me out
La Familia we the bros, neva seen a drought
Bad bitch, Like DJ Unc, I made her walk It out
Beat it out the bitch,
We don't talk it out
This bitch I'm talkin' bout
She got a nice bounce
You catchin' 27, I got a 30 ounce
When I'm O.T., I'm lookin' for the girls scouts

You want Qua Qua? You can get her whole
Or by the ounce
Nigga play wit me, I let the wolves out, & I let em pounce
Goin crazy rockin all this shit, I can't even pronounce
I been doin' good, I be stashin' in like three accounts
Got my first case in, I swear I knew that I could do it
Good drank, all it took was three days, for Big Cuz to move it
Get money, don't snitch, that's the message inside my music
Stay down get a bag, lil' nigga is what, I influence

Ran through the sack on 5 Deuce, I feel like Ray Lewis
Unc said he like to use his nose, but he stay shootin'
Put the yay up to the glass, I can see through It
Niggas standin' at my back door, I'm lucky I can peep thru it
Coppin' heavy loads, lil' nigga, yeah, that's large amounts
A 100 grams used to be enough
Now, I just tripled it out
1st 7 off a 9, lil' nigga, I'm givin' it out
Straight drop the load, lil' nigga, we spinnin' it out

Me & Bro be in the lab cookin' like we Rick & Mort
Looked each otha in the eyes, Like we gon' trap, man
We picked our sport
We gon' up the score, if you try to play up on our court
Brodie hit me for some Wock, said he want a quart
& they gon' keep comin' back, cuz they lovin' the flavor
Run up a bag wit yo team, but cut his neck if brodie a traitor
They might think I'm goin' crazy, I'm in love with blue paper
Might just sip this wocky out the bottle, like
Fuck a chaser
Fuck it, Money Train shit,
100Round Gang shit



Credits
Writer(s): Malik Mayfield, Domonique Criss
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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