| Here I go, here I go this that C5
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| Bitch I’m back, with that crack like panty lines
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| Asinine, I get blow like dandelions
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| Fuck more hoes than advertised
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| They say Tune you’re dead wrong
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| I say wrong, had to die
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| Pussy nigga don’t keep it real no more
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| Drug dealers changed but the high stay the same
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| Prices go up but the high stay the same
|
| Gotta watch for undercovers like crying in the rain
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| Chillin' in the crib with the lock on the door
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| Layin' on the couch with the Glock on the floor
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| Within arm reach, security, alarm breach
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| I just cut off the lights, hope I don’t shoot my hoe
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| I eat so much shrimp, I smoke so much hemp
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| The world too small it feel like 4 walls
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| You see I got holes punched in
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| My chances are cold cut thin, but I still took ‘em and nigga we made it
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| T roll that killer, weed up in the swisher, and make it as fat as a pig in a
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| blanket
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| My BFF is Benjamin Franklin, they cry for help we get ‘em a hanky
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| Ain’t nothing sweet but the shit that we drinkin', the bitches we bangin',
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| the cinnamon danish
|
| The penalty’s pending, shit is restraining
|
| It is a shame but niggas is shameless
|
| Niggas is assholes, or enemas, finna get anal
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| Injury, time out, I just blew my mind out
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| But still I’m maintaining
|
| Real gangsta shit it get dangerous
|
| You talking money and guns, 2 languages
|
| I throw niggas from off of the plane I’m in
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| Oh my god, it’s raining men
|
| Said the weatherman to the anchorman
|
| I send hella cash to the bank I’m with
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| What you do it for if it ain’t for this
|
| I watch my step so much, I’m starting to feel like my ankles' wrist
|
| Cold hearted, starting to feel like I’m in Anchorage when I think of this
|
| And rude awakenings get taken in like fragrances
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| Bitch I smell like money, dope man cologne
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| I say bitch I smell like money, that’s that dope man cologne
|
| And if he ain’t getting money, don’t love him, leave his broke ass alone
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| I say if he ain’t getting money, leave his stank ass alone
|
| ‘Cause bitch I smell like money, I smell like money
|
| When you this rich they call it wealthy
|
| Shit they gotta call it somethin'
|
| Lord I done got too rich for stuntin' (damn)
|
| But not for thuggin.'
|
| That’s right bitch I smell like money, money
|
| You smell me coming
|
| 2 Chainz
|
| Totin' double barrels in a horse and carriage
|
| Ain’t scared of nothing except God and marriage
|
| Through the concrete grew a rose petal
|
| If trapping was a sport, I’d have a gold medal
|
| I steal her like Jerome Bettis
|
| Call me Trill Cosby, I might spike my own beverage
|
| Parallel park in front of Neiman Marcus
|
| He ain’t never fly nigga, like an ostrich
|
| They say ain’t nothing for free, but please free my partnas
|
| Might have a swag contest and give out free Versaces
|
| Yea, lobster rolls for an appetizer
|
| Bad red bitch give me a lap-etizer
|
| I’m in my Rolls Royce because it’s black and wiser
|
| And don’t get in the way, my nig this rapid fire
|
| Brrr stick ‘em, I’m a victim of being a victim
|
| Codeines, Xanax and liquor
|
| Prescriptions and couple pistols
|
| Got clean molly with the crystals
|
| Middle finger to the judicials
|
| Fork and a pot is my utensils
|
| Had a threesome with 2 sisters
|
| I get head and you kiss her
|
| I don’t never call and you miss her
|
| I got every gun except a missile
|
| I paid attention to the minister
|
| My silhouette is sinister
|
| Only child with trust issues
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| You couldn’t walk a mile in my hoop shoes
|
| Me and Tune 2 loose screws
|
| 2 parts in my box cut, my pop wouldn’t even pop up
|
| Last night I prayed to God and asked for him to make a drop truck
|
| Polo T and ice watch, moccasins without socks
|
| And I smell like money, I can count a hundred thousand with the lights off
|
| I say bitch I smell like money, that’s that dope and cologne
|
| And if he ain’t getting money, don’t love him, leave his broke ass alone
|
| I say if he ain’t getting money, leave his stank ass alone
|
| ‘Cause bitch I smell like money |