What We Making???
Cartier
Yeah, huh
All- All this money that I'm making got me feeling crazy
The way I count this dough make me feel amazing
This that typa money, don't see many places
Yeah
Hundred mill my goal
Yeah, the vision crazy
Yeah, shawty love my pole
She said "This shit crazy"
Yeah
I can't love no ho
I don't want no baby
This a-
This a fucking SRT
Not no damn Mercedes
I get mad money
Now I'm screaming "Fuck you, pay me"
It's just mad funny
All these pussy niggas lazy
Fuck that pussy boy
Come on, let these niggas hate me
I go Bond Street
And that nigga rock fugazi
Huh
Hannah Montana
I'm rocking bandanas
I hoping you niggas will leave me alone
24 hours, I'm locked in the studio
Bitch, can you stop calling up my phone
Uh
X pills, Molly, I'm so fucking gone
Niggas saying they gon' drop the addy
Bet they fucking won't
Niggas saying that they're dropping addy's but no they won't
Me and TB really stack it up
Bring that money home
We hit the store and try and flick it up
You know we on go
(You know we on go)
My steeze capped out
Her knees capped out
I put that bitch in Fendi and her needs back now
The money coming in
I guess a fee back now
She like "Oh my God, I really need that now"
Yeah
I'm like "Oh my God, I'm in love with these pounds"
Yeah
Keep that coming in, then I keep that coming out, yeah
This bread just like a river or a fuckin' roundabout
Yeah, huh
All- All this money that I'm making got me feeling crazy
The way I count this dough make me feel amazing
This that typa money, don't see many places
Yeah
Hundred mill my goal
Yeah, the vision crazy
Yeah, shawty love my pole
She said "This shit crazy"
Yeah
I can't love no ho
I don't want no baby
This a-
This a fucking SRT
Not no damn Mercedes
I get mad money
Now I'm screaming "Fuck you, pay me" (dollar, dollar)
Aye TB Stacka, you're a fucking pussy
You bitch
TB Stacka, you're a fucking pussy, man
Pussy bitch
Wake up, wake up
Wake up, wake up bro
Wait, hold on, hold on
I'm bout to pop my shit, for real
My steeze blacked out (yeah)
My teeth blacked out (yeah)
My G's swagged out
I put that bitch in Gucci, now that B swagged out
Huh, put that ho on molly and the B blacked out
Heard them niggas talking shit
Then I could get them packed out
Tryna get him packed now
Uh
Rolling off a pack, you know I need that now
Yeah, like a boomerang, these honeys keep on coming round
(I ain't got no beef, man)
(All them boy are hella clowns)
Yeah, huh
All- All this money that I'm making got me feeling crazy
The way I count this dough make me feel amazing
This that typa money, don't see many places
Yeah
Hundred mill my goal
Yeah, the vision crazy
Yeah, shawty love my pole
She said "This shit crazy"
Yeah
I can't love no ho
I don't want no baby
This a-
This a fucking SRT
Not no damn Mercedes
I get mad money
Now I'm screaming "Fuck you, pay me"
It's just mad funny
All these pussy niggas lazy
Fuck that pussy boy
Come on, let these niggas hate me
I go Bond Street
And that nigga rock fugazi
Huh
Hannah Montana
I'm rocking bandanas
I hoping you niggas will leave me alone
24 hours, I'm locked in the studio
Bitch, can you stop calling up my phone
Uh
X pills, Molly, I'm so fucking gone
Niggas saying they gon' drop the addy
Bet they fucking won't
Niggas saying that they're dropping addy's but no they won't
Me and TB really stack it up
Bring that money home
We hit the store and try and flick it up
You know we on go
(You know we on go)
My steeze capped out
Her knees capped out
I put that bitch in Fendi and her needs back now
The money coming in
I guess a fee back now
She like "Oh my God, I really need that now"
Yeah
I'm like "Oh my God, I'm in love with these pounds"
Yeah
Keep that coming in, then I keep that coming out, yeah
This bread just like a river or a fuckin' roundabout
Yeah, huh
All- All this money that I'm making got me feeling crazy
The way I count this dough make me feel amazing
This that typa money, don't see many places
Yeah
Hundred mill my goal
Yeah, the vision crazy
Yeah, shawty love my pole
She said "This shit crazy"
Yeah
I can't love no ho
I don't want no baby
This a-
This a fucking SRT
Not no damn Mercedes
I get mad money
Now I'm screaming "Fuck you, pay me" (dollar, dollar)
Aye TB Stacka, you're a fucking pussy
You bitch
TB Stacka, you're a fucking pussy, man
Pussy bitch
Wake up, wake up
Wake up, wake up bro
Wait, hold on, hold on
I'm bout to pop my shit, for real
My steeze blacked out (yeah)
My teeth blacked out (yeah)
My G's swagged out
I put that bitch in Gucci, now that B swagged out
Huh, put that ho on molly and the B blacked out
Heard them niggas talking shit
Then I could get them packed out
Tryna get him packed now
Uh
Rolling off a pack, you know I need that now
Yeah, like a boomerang, these honeys keep on coming round
(I ain't got no beef, man)
(All them boy are hella clowns)
Credits
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