Lyrics Bubblin - Anderson .Paak, Busta Rhymes

Bubblin

Look at you go
Okay, you bubblin'
Look, go, go
Look at you go
Okay, you bubblin', look
Yeah, one in the hand, one in the bag, bubblin'
Look at the cash, look at the cash comin' in
Come get your mans, this lil' nigga buggin' me
Just leave the bag, quit all that jaw-jackery
Don’t even pass me that, I don’t want none of it (yeah)
These niggas mad about it, had enough of it
Woah, watch what you sayin', all that poppin' and shakin'
Got me hot as a laser, my posse deep and irate
And we act a fool for the paper, had a dream and I made it
El Camino on Dayton’s, Vintage Guess over Bape
Put the bread on me bitch, bitch you bet I’ma bank it
Piggy flat in a blanket, I might just roll out today
I might just roll out to Vegas, head back to my old ways
Cop a room full of Asian hoes and do blow all day
Look at me baby, look at me baby
Don’t I look like a million?
I’m 'bout to clean out the safe
D-don't I look like somebody that just be bodyin' everything?
All that talkin' is great but I don’t be talkin', I air it out
All the problems have gotten easy to bury
I’d rather drown them in Hendrick’s, I’d rather kiss on my Mary
I been, broker way longer than I been rich so until it levels out
I’ma take your mama to the Marriott and wear it out
Took me so long to get it, gon' and spread it out
Let 'em know all about me when I’m dead and gone (woah)
One in the hand, one in the bag, bubblin' (look at you go)
One in the hand, one in the bag, bubblin' (look at you go)
Look at the cash, look at the cash bubblin' (okay, you bubblin')
Look at the cash (look) bubblin' (go)
One in the hand (look), one in the hand (go)
One in the hand, one in the bag, bubblin' (look at you go)
Look at the cash, look at the cash bubblin' (okay, you bubblin')
Look at the cash (look) bubblin'
I’ma need all the fries you can give me
All the hot sauce, all the pie you can give me
Better be all or nothin', don’t have me in the middle
You better be all you can, get higher than the limit, yeah
Simplify for the Dumbos, plenty slides, I can shuffle
Hit the cadence with my young bitch, Isaac Hayes, Billy Ocean
Bought my old hoe with the cane stick, left my slippers at the function
It’s hard to run in Gucci slides
Chick, I thought you said you didn’t have a husband
I’m a stud, no cuckold, Jackie Chan, no trouble
Can’t clean it with a bib, blood drippin' from the cutthroats
No Lord, not me, I can never be the one you wanna stunt for
Money, money, that machine gun sprayed the Ferragamo store
R.I.P to times that I was broke, after life in 911 Porsche
Matte black lookin' clean, dead prezies in an envelope
Cookin up canard, waitin' for the antidote
Runnin' out of time, patience thinner than a pantyhose
«Get over here and empty your pockets.»
«I don’t do that.»
«You're my prisoner—you do what I tell you to do—get over here.»
«Haha, he’s gonna get nasty about it!»
«Fuckin' bitch!»
«Frank!
Cool it, huh?»
«Stay the fuck outta this!»
One in the hand, one in the bag, bubblin' (look at you go)
One in the hand, one in the bag, bubblin' (look at you go)
Look at the cash, look at the cash bubblin' (okay, you bubblin')
Look at the cash (look) bubblin' (go)
One in the hand (look), one in the hand (go)
One in the hand, one in the bag, bubblin' (look at you go)
Look at the cash, look at the cash, bubblin' (okay, you bubblin')
Look at the cash (look) bubblin'