| Money in my bank account, money in my denim
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| Money on these bitches' brains, they be tryna get it
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| Tryna run my pockets but I’m not tryna hear it
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| That’s mine baby what is you deaf, blind, crazy?
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| That ain’t my Mercedes, that’s my homeboy Benz
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| That’s too new for me, I’m so vintage loaf
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| Cuban link, yellow gold, bought a British automobile
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| Cause I watch Layer Cake too many times
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| And I had access to too much of that scrilla mine
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| Let me ride, these hoes got me feeling like Dre
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| Chronic high, these blades got me feeling like UGK, coming down
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| Middle finger out the sunroof, fuck a hater
|
| That’s a message, when a nigga ride through, I’m 'bout my paper
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| These hoes got a nigga all confused, think I’ma save 'em
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| They say that I’m them other dudes, got me mistaken
|
| It’s a whole 'nother world 'round here, a hundred baby
|
| These niggas stacking change but these niggas ain’t changing
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| It’s a whole 'nother world 'round here, this shit amazing
|
| The word spreading fast and these bitches say I made it
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| And nigga I’m still lane switching and pimpin'
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| I’ll save a half a dub before I save her
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| And that’s 'til I die, I be as G as can be
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| Tell my mama when I go, bury me in a mink
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| My bitch say I need to change my ways and be more honest
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| I tell her ain’t nothing change but the change in your spot ain’t promised
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| All these bitches at my neck, I don’t need an extra collar
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| And lames can stay in they lane, causing traffic jams and pile ups
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| So it’s Jets up over every, and them plans land in dally
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| Three phones, still can’t reach me with that shit you tryna tell me
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| Cause I vow to keep it trill, only focus on my mills
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| I done blew niggas deals on wheels, ride past road kill
|
| Middle finger out the sunroof, fuck a hater
|
| That’s a message, when a nigga ride through, I’m 'bout my paper
|
| These hoes got a nigga all confused, think I’ma save 'em
|
| They say that I’m them other dudes, got me mistaken
|
| It’s a whole 'nother world 'round here, a hundred baby
|
| These niggas stacking change but these niggas ain’t changing
|
| It’s a whole 'nother world 'round here, this shit amazing
|
| The word spreading fast and these bitches say I made it
|
| I’m riding on elbows, money green El Do Rado I’m moving with 7 grams in my
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| shell toes
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| Thinking 'bout pinky rings, might snatch me a pair of those
|
| Pressed against my steering wheel, shining like a phantom grill
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| Didn’t switch because I picked them chips up, I stayed real
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| Short bed Chevy pickup on off set 3 piece wheels
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| Muscle car maniac, wherever the bank be at
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| We thinking 'bout taking that president masses potato sacks
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| I’m puffing that danger pack, counting a paper stack
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| Laying up in Palm Springs, working on my golf swing
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| Smoked out, flying over the gulf, in a Gulf Stream
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| Indulging in delicacies, Jet Life is a legacy
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| Yea
|
| Middle finger out the sunroof, fuck a hater
|
| That’s a message, when a nigga ride through, I’m 'bout my paper
|
| These hoes got a nigga all confused, think I’ma save 'em
|
| They say that I’m them other dudes, got me mistaken
|
| It’s a whole 'nother world 'round here, a hundred baby
|
| These niggas stacking change but these niggas ain’t changing
|
| It’s a whole 'nother world 'round here, this shit amazing
|
| The word spreading fast and these bitches say I made it |