| Keep my eye on the money, I’ll never go broke, see, I won’t allow it
|
| Get to the racks, I never lack, I don’t even trust my own accountant
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| SRT, no Audi, uh, diamonds they wet like Dory, yeah
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| Dumping these niggas like Lori, yeah
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| They always switch up their story, yeah
|
| Applying the pressure, ain’t nobody better
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| Way up in the sky, bitches not on my level
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| Mickey Mouse all over my Gucci sweater
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| We with the shit, my whole gang full of rebels
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| I don’t trust no one that dance with the devil
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| If you ice out the face, gotta ice out the bezel
|
| If you ice out the face, gotta ice out the bezel
|
| Yeah, uh, okay yeah, uh (Yeah, yeah)
|
| Okay, yeah (Yeah, yeah), okay, yeah (Yeah, yeah)
|
| Okay, yeah (Yeah, yeah), okay, yeah (Okay, let’s go)
|
| Okay, yeah (Okay, yeah), okay, yeah, uh (Yeah)
|
| See, I drop the top on you niggas, I ride right past and keep shit pushing
|
| (Let's go)
|
| Wave to a hater, say «Bye» (Bye)
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| But to the money, say «Hi»
|
| Chrome hearts or these Matthew Williams, which one? |
| Can’t decide
|
| Walk in Dior, buy it all, don’t care about the price
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| Got bitches so mad, these bitches broke and bitter, taste like Sour Patch
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| So then relax 'fore I take your nigga, I won’t give him back
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| Way up (Way up), way up (Way up), way up (Way up), I’m way up (Let's go, yeah)
|
| Yeah, uh, okay yeah, uh (Yeah-yeah)
|
| Okay, yeah (Yeah, yeah), okay, yeah (Yeah, yeah)
|
| Okay, yeah (Yeah, yeah), okay, yeah (Okay, let’s go)
|
| Okay, yeah (Okay, yeah), okay, yeah, uh (Yeah) |