Numbers
I got 25 lighters on the dresser, I got 45 bricks on the road
I got 40 Glock 9s, come and test us, I got 25 niggas on parole
I got 21 bitches in my living room, I got 24 ounces in my cup
I got 3 different banks stacking up the dough, I got 12 young niggas down to bust
Numbers, numbers, numbers, numbers
All we do is numbers, numbers, numbers, numbers
All we do is numbers
This I came up off the steps with it
I advise em not to mess with it
40 cal, he hit your chest with it
Fuck around and leave a mess with it
Send a couple through your Mets fitted
Limbs loose, I hope your vest fit it
Riding drunk, caught a DUI
Locking niggas up, I prey they free my guys
Free my nigga Dada you know he the fire
Got em sitting up for the homicide
Tossing money at the damn pole
Nigga got it out the bando
Stacking paper's all you need to know
Nigga we be stacking up
Riding dirty, got the forty on me
Fuck nigga tryna spoil it for me
Feds, nigga tryna call em on me
Glass house, got your shawty on me
Pussy nigga, you's a joke
Always talking money, you ain't never seen it
Stacking numbers, I'mma pull up in a foreign
Nigga bet them niggas seen it
Pull that Porsche up when I ride
Got some pills on me, got bills on me
I stack the paper sky high
I be bossed up till I die
On your block in all of my chains
You gone take something, nah-nah
I got 40 Glock 9s, come and test us, I got 25 niggas on parole
I got 21 bitches in my living room, I got 24 ounces in my cup
I got 3 different banks stacking up the dough, I got 12 young niggas down to bust
Numbers, numbers, numbers, numbers
All we do is numbers, numbers, numbers, numbers
All we do is numbers
This I came up off the steps with it
I advise em not to mess with it
40 cal, he hit your chest with it
Fuck around and leave a mess with it
Send a couple through your Mets fitted
Limbs loose, I hope your vest fit it
Riding drunk, caught a DUI
Locking niggas up, I prey they free my guys
Free my nigga Dada you know he the fire
Got em sitting up for the homicide
Tossing money at the damn pole
Nigga got it out the bando
Stacking paper's all you need to know
Nigga we be stacking up
Riding dirty, got the forty on me
Fuck nigga tryna spoil it for me
Feds, nigga tryna call em on me
Glass house, got your shawty on me
Pussy nigga, you's a joke
Always talking money, you ain't never seen it
Stacking numbers, I'mma pull up in a foreign
Nigga bet them niggas seen it
Pull that Porsche up when I ride
Got some pills on me, got bills on me
I stack the paper sky high
I be bossed up till I die
On your block in all of my chains
You gone take something, nah-nah
Credits
Writer(s): Turrell Sims, Lionel Pickens, Timothy B Stokes, Turrell Thomas Sims
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
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