Lyrics Money - Guapdad 4000

Money

Yeah, turn it up in the headphones
I need to hear that shit wap
There it is
Yeah
I said fuego
Coming with the flame like a Draco
Make a broke nigga ketchup no tomatoes
Le' go
Build an infrastructure for my payroll
No squares in my circles, save that for the Eggo’s
Hey hoe
Take a trip down to San Diego
You bust tricks
I flip cards for the peso
Fabo
Nigga geeked up in this bitch
I’m a pretty ass nigga with a prettier dick
Bitch hello, freeband’s, all from Neiman’s
Leave the register, I’m doing the «I just got the receipt dance»
You a kiddie pool and nigga’s been off the deep end
And I’m unemployed everyday is the weekend
I’m a bay mobster
Trend setter
Wave monster
Ruth Chris scamming and I ordered 8 lobsters
Brought a bitch with me and she called it a feast, bitch
I just really wanted something to eat
Now she wanna give bomb nigga head like turbans
Suck me up like Kirby
Bust a nut start swerving
Going ape shit nigga like a Saiyan with a tail
She said that’s a nice coach
I said bitch this Chanel
Issa check
I ain’t on a discount rack
Your designer ugly, you should get your money back
Young Scammer in the building, bout to start a religion
If I tripped on my money, I would fall on my bitches
Off Top
If you a broke nigga you an opp
If you a broke bitch you’s a thot
If my ex bitch you’s a bop
You over curious then you a cop
You driving hella slow, you getting popped
You like my bitch then we can swap
Cause my bitch gon' wanna come home and yours not
I share lots with nigga’s who share stocks
Turn heads like Beyblade’s, nigga’s spin top
Aqua fist wrist watch
I’m scamming your friends pops
The paint don’t drip drop, Its matte like dreadlocks
I’m dodging the wedlock and duckin' the feds, watch
I’d rhyme with Bed Rock but that’s cliche
Nigga I’m in Morton’s everyday with a filet
Racing to the paper like a relay
Then stay, out in Chile
We lay over Gucci
All my paper loosely
Trying to get money from a Hello or a Lucy
A Tribe Called Scam, I just never knew Phife
But my wrist look just like Bonita on ice
And I need to get Head &Shoulders
These fuckin' Po-lice
Bruh, it was days I was eating just rice
I might say less, but I always do the most
About my green bread like avocado toast
Can’t forget the blue like my name was Steve
I draw pictures with the clues that you wouldn’t believe
I’m a breath of fresh air, these hoes still can’t breathe
Pretty nigga so sharp, how I still ain’t bleed?
I’d done dodged the bitch out and she still ain’t leave
Guapdad, Scam Boy, but I need the cheese, yeah