Money

I don't know why this is getting so frickin' hard
I want Telfy, I want Prada, but my pockets saying na-da, na-da, na-da, na-da
Working 9 to 5 with my brain on yada-yada, yada, yada, yada
My sis hit my line like, I know you wanna, wanna, wanna, wanna, wanna

Grab a .30 and take it to the bank of Americana, cana, cana, cana
I said, babe, you got my six cause you know I'm gonna, gonna
But first let's through some back with some Migos at the Casa
He said, babe, you need to get a bag like another whole in the head

You know it's hard out here for us
Tell me what are we supposed to do
(Get your money, get your money up)
(Get your money, get your money up)

Imma make my money, don't let it make me
Imma make my money, don't let it make me
Imma make my money, don't let it make me
Don't let it make me

Imma make my money, don't let it make me
Imma make my money, don't let it make me
Imma make my money, don't let it make me
Don't let it make me



Credits
Writer(s): Finesha Henry
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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