|
Money Man Lyrics - Artist : BabyTron
(It's Bluestrip, baby)
Phew Ayy, ShittyBoyz Okay, ha, yeah (ShittyBoyz) Each shoe hit for seven hundred, this a stimmy walk Teachers used to tell me (Shh), now it cost when Jimmy talk Good in the Willow, all the opps I got in Ypsi' soft Put the blue strips and dubs down and let the fifties talk Bitch switching sides, her middle name should be wishy-wash I been jamming chips for five plus, let's have a gifty off Probably knock the plug head off, he try and rip me off Mean-mugging, clutching on the Drac', do not piss me off Your boys acting real tough for some fake killers Send your bitch the drop, when she get here, have my way with her Labels bullshitting, how I'm thinking, I need eight figures I don't gotta move a muscle, shoutout to them gravediggers Hoes sneaky than a bitch, it's hard to hear a snake slither Quarter of the za, a deuce of Wock', these some pain killers Crunch time, you benchwarm, I'ma hit the game winner We gon' double back on her, we are not the same spinner Boy, you better use your brain, don't be thinking with your heart You know these bitches play it crazy, they'll leave you in the dark Never did the porch, lil' me was tweaking in the yard .223'll leave him looking like he sleeping off a bar Chain three tone and I came Vlone Did the clerk bold twice, then I came 3-0 In a loft OT, so I came three hoes Three threats in the morning, so I came three poles Walking out the bank, smell like Creed in the House of Dank Medkit cost a couple blues, that's without the Drac' Real pape', you ain't never made the money counter break Finna turn my baller on, it's Wocky in my Powerade Reminiscing 'bout the Runtz, fucked around and found my blanks Sometimes I wish all the love came without the hate Shit talker, specialize in giving hoes the sour face Told the plug I need ten free if he an hour late Came a long way, I charged a hundred for them first verses Reach for this chain, we gon' put him in the earth's surface All the pretty loyal bitches in the world deserve Birkins Yeah, I'm on the road bright and early, hear the birds chirping Balaclava on, but my habibi, he prefer turbans Projector on the beamer, when I skrrt around, the vert German (Skrrt) Fuck a rat, all the snitches in the world deserve hearses (Die) High as hell flirting with your bitch, she say my words slurring Never could I fall off as long as it's clerks working Had to ask my last bitch like, "Really, was the dirt worth it?" Tryna stop the shine, must ain't hear that we burn curtains Long sleeve or the widebody when we skrrt-skrrting Unc' flipping oranges, I'm on Apple, finna ship some jacks He calling for his bitch back, I know I got him pissed I cracked Riding 'round, see an opp and air him up like Fix-a-Flat Zip-tight in this motherfucker, this the biggest bag Bro pop black as fuck, it was a watermelon Crush Hoes staring at the whole gang, bet they let us fuck Call my eastside bitch, I guarantee she set 'em up If I go broke, might crash the whip into the FedEx truck (I swear) Foot on the fucking gas pedal, I ain't letting up 2021, I'm finna go and get a bezel bust Glock 22, won't wrestle nothing, I got a Dressler tucked He spent his last band at the set to impress some sluts Told your ass once in "GameBreaker" 'bout that seven plus Been a money man since middle school, I had my dresser stuffed Boy, it's almost summertime, it's time to turn the pressure up If the BIN hit wherever, I'll pay however much You sweating through that fake drip, oh, you a musty boy, ain't you? You ain't got no pape' to eat, oh, you a hungry boy, ain't you? Six deep in that whip, oh, y'all some crunchy boys, ain't you? And that motherfucker old, y'all some rusty boys, ain't you? Man Yeah Oh, you a musty boy, ain't you? Ayy, ShittyBoyz |
Other Lyrics
|
Copyright © 2009-2024 |