Lyrics Mula - Capo Lee, P Money

Mula

Listen
Capo
Some Unlocked shit, man
I swear
Running to the mula
I’ll be running to the guap
I’ll be running to the money
Hey, yeah, yeah
Nothing ain’t changed, see me grinding in the flats
Dreams of a millionaire breaking down a pack
Shots from the front had him running out the back
Hit him with the pow, pow, execute a rat
I’ll be running to that mula, running to that mula
I’ll be running to that mula, running to that mula
I’ll be running to that mula, running to that mula
I’ll be running to that mula, running to that mula
I’ll be running, running
Yeah, trap boy in the game, that’s me
Same place where I grind like
Money in my hand everyday
Scrunch it up and I’m making a wish
I touch down and I’m raising hell
I took the path and didn’t look back
That’s hard work but he didn’t want none
I make the grind look fun
No trim, I’ve got a trapping 'fro
You don’t know about a trapping flow
Too many fed, man trap and go
I’ve got a show, then I’m back involved
No food, man are acting loads
I come through with an active load
No breaks when I’m chasing goals
I need money right now, that’s facts
You’ve got plans?
More dough?
Let’s get it
It’s not that, saw your text and read it
All the young boys holding tools
You can’t make that call if you ain’t got credit
I know about trap and scales
I don’t know about 419
Active bails
Black gloves on, bruk man down
Cuh life’s kind of mad
Gotta know where you’re rolling
Gotta know who you’re speaking to
Gotta know who you’re phoning
I saw music money last year
Believe me that I’m grateful
I keep to myself more time
Cuh bare MCs are too hateful
Nothing ain’t changed, see me grinding in the flats
Dreams of a millionaire breaking down a pack
Shots from the front had him running out the back
Hit him with the pow, pow, execute a rat
I’ll be running to that mula, running to that mula
I’ll be running to that mula, running to that mula
I’ll be running to that mula, running to that mula
I’ll be running to that mula, running to that mula
I’ll be running, running
I was gang before it was cool to say gang, let me tell you about man
Seventeen years old, came up with a plan
Serve man food knowing it’s bland
On the way home, laughing at man
He said he’ll remember man
Oi, fuck your memory, fam
I’ve got a MAC with serious ram
Push big whips like pram
Now chicks wanna link and hang
'Cause her friend told her how low it hangs
Got dick that will touch her glands
Told me she had a man (so?)
Used to make money in a ban (do)
Now I make money like bands (dough)
Leave banks with money in bands (whoa)
Never did pots and pans
But I still got dirty hands
Used to set up the lights and fans
Now I’ve got my name in lights and fans
About «let's do a tune, fam»
Stop that, what’d you mean, fam?
Got adlibs, now you think you’re gang
(What?) Brap, top lip panned
Still turn up with gang
Still turn up when you jam
One badman born in April
Another badman born in Jan
Go ahead, call your main man
Man don’t care if he’s wham
I ain’t getting out the car, are you mad?
Nothing ain’t changed, see me grinding in the flats
Dreams of a millionaire breaking down a pack
Shots from the front had him running out the back
Hit him with the pow, pow, execute a rat
I’ll be running to that mula, running to that mula
I’ll be running to that mula, running to that mula
I’ll be running to that mula, running to that mula
I’ll be running to that mula, running to that mula
I’ll be running, running