Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Money , by - AZ. Song from the album Legacy, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хопRelease date: 10.02.2019
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Quiet Money
Song language: English
Money |
| It’s do or die |
| This here, this here vivid and just, just holding stacks in your clothes |
| Put some money in shoe boxes and things of that nature |
| I’m so '90's nigga |
| Rob niggas |
| Get the plastic swiper |
| Get it legit, get it liquid |
| What’s your net worth |
| Quiet money |
| You know the fiasco, cut costs like Costco |
| Formaldehyde is like homicide to your nostrils |
| Rap apostle, indirect with the hostile |
| Unstoppable, these niggas trapped in their costumes |
| Coke on iTunes, y’all awake to a monsoon |
| Masterful pieces, peep my thesis of a tycoon |
| Corporate, too fly to ever forfeit |
| Fear, gear gorgeous, thoughts that travel the orbits I’m here |
| Horns and halos, fish corn and potatoes |
| Performed, loved and adorned |
| Getting licked on in the Caicos |
| Pop for the pesos, put the drop on the payroll |
| Alfa Romeo, hard top hop in the J-Lo, so Play-Doh |
| It only frustrate 'cause niggas fake |
| Got a billion dollar face on a trillion dollar chase |
| So many frontin' motherfuckers got me feeling outta place |
| Niggas like yo, you wanna win you gotta go mainstream |
| I guess I never went |
| I flow too much like the ocean |
| I’m from the truck jewel era so fuck whatever |
| Chess play for the cheddar, only trust two letters |
| Checkerboard on the sweater, rest assured I’m a repper |
| Feeling like Mr. Malcolm, the messenger outta Mecca |
| Nigga I’m a Giuseppe, Louis Vuitton stepper |
| Nike Jordan collector, vintage foreign, etcetera |
| Reflector, a hustler’s homage for those in bondage |
| Urgency of a convict who get his currency garnished |
| Astonished, you see the mechanics in niggas antics |
| Falsifying their transcripts, hoping pardons get granted |
| Manic depressive, fries and salmon for breakfast |
| Fucking them pretty broads that claim their man is possessive |
| Stands the freshest, deliver with the lyrics for the flow critics |
| No gimmicks, shit real as a parole visit |
| Hey fuck you man |
| Who put this thing together |
| Me, that’s who |
| Who I trust, me |