| Hold up, pull up in a Wraith like Dolph, woo
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| Chrome stick like golf clubs
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| All you hoes takin' off, we got everything to purchase, the soft
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| Party pack takin off, party pack got the bitch goin off
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| Everybody lock jaw, all my niggas from the street layin' low
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| They heard the AMG exhaust
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| Now these hoes wanna put their mouth on the boss
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| I would never trust the bitch
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| I refuse to take a motherfuckin' loss
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| She ain’t even see me geeked
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| I refuse to take them Cartiers off
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| I got that bag on me always
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| I use to serve in them hallways
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| Posted with niggas with long K’s
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| Keep my some niggas that gone spray
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| Went from a deuce to a four a day
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| Pour a four of act inside a Fanta Grape
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| Oh girl I can’t resist I love the taste
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| Got me flexin' bankrolls in these bitches face
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| Got them fuckin in second switchin place
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| Top shotta, its time to celebrate
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| Its inside but we gettin hella cake
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| Money get tall just watch the shit elevate
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| Broke niggas hell yeah they
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| I’mma get what these niggas never ever make
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| In the trap without a trap I’m forever straight
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| LG doin a hundred on the interstate
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| Hold up, pull up in a Wraith like Dolph, woo
|
| Chrome stick like golf clubs
|
| All you hoes takin' off, we got everything to purchase, the soft
|
| Part pack takin off, party pack got the bitch goin off
|
| Everybody lock jaw, all my niggas from the street layin' low
|
| They heard the AMG exhaust
|
| Now these hoes wanna put their mouth on the boss
|
| I would never trust the bitch
|
| I refuse to take a motherfuckin' loss
|
| She ain’t even see me geeked
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| I refuse to take them cars exhaust
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| I was trappin out a loft
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| Tried to cross me, I’m boss
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| Told your bitch it was millions big
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| Yo bitch, we don’t have friends
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| Lord knows we got alotta sins
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| Got a couple dead homies we won’t see again
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| Gotta stack this cash for them dead friends
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| Pull to the left, it’s a dead end
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| Shad just told me that the feds in
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| I’m riding with AR and carbins
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| I told Shad to be caushous
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| We having them sticks at the offace
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| You dieing if you just walk in
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| Fuck nigga
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| Oops I meant he lying
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| Niggas swag
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| Hold up, pull up in a Wraith like Dolph, woo
|
| Chrome stick like golf clubs
|
| All you hoes takin' off, we got everything to purchase, the soft
|
| Part pack takin off, party pack got the bitch goin off
|
| Everybody lock jaw, all my niggas from the street layin' low
|
| They heard the AMG exhaust
|
| Now these hoes wanna put their mouth on the boss
|
| I would never trust the bitch
|
| I refuse to take a motherfuckin' loss
|
| She ain’t even see me geeked
|
| I refuse to take them cars exhaust
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| I know what getting money about
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| I’ll bring all the pounds to the house
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| Said lil bitch
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| Put that bitch where I fucked up her mouth
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| A thousand trapped, had to run that car out
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| Pints shipped to the south
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| Hundred thousand
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| Got 90 hoes tryna fuck me for clout
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| Bright life, brought the apples
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| Fuck beef, brought the animals out
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| Everybody
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| the hoe
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| Put a spell on a hoe, on the floor
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| Hold up, pull up in a Wraith like Dolph, woo
|
| Chrome stick like golf clubs
|
| All you hoes takin' off, we got everything to purchase, the soft
|
| Part pack takin off, party pack got the bitch goin off
|
| Everybody lock jaw, all my niggas from the street layin' low
|
| They heard the AMG exhaust
|
| Now these hoes wanna put their mouth on the boss
|
| I would never trust the bitch
|
| I refuse to take a motherfuckin' loss
|
| She ain’t even see me geeked
|
| I refuse to take them cars exhaust |
Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song What Money About, artist - Bankroll Mafia. Album song Bankroll Mafia, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп