| Money grow on trees bitch I’m rooted up
|
| They hating low key so I’m toolied up
|
| On Mercy Drive posted in the cut
|
| Trying to fuck this bitch I met inside of Lux
|
| Boss up, ooh, I got my cash up
|
| Finesse a nigga, Uncle Sam, I’ll tax ya
|
| No grams, BOA faster
|
| Still spending money made from last year
|
| Fuck a runner I done ran it up
|
| Fuck that promoter tell him prices done went up
|
| At every show got my sniper in the cut
|
| At every show we got sticks in the trunk
|
| Hit her from all sides like we playing tonk
|
| Baby, I’m the shit I can’t fake the funk
|
| This ain’t what you want, this ain’t what you want
|
| My Draco, my Draco, my Draco, fuck a handgun
|
| Got pes, got pes, got pesos I can get you slumped
|
| For some petty shit start war like Donald Trump
|
| No secret service I’m protected by this pump
|
| Fuck secret service got more faith in my gun
|
| Chosen one, came up out the slum
|
| Trial 17 stick with a drum
|
| In the club, I ain’t come to have no fun
|
| Hoe you ugly I’m not 'bout to throw no ones
|
| Cougar bitch, I’m the same age as her son
|
| She trying to kidnap me, Hawaii for a month
|
| Whole month, you eating dick up like it’s lunch
|
| Don’t use hands, she controls it with her tongue
|
| She control it with her mouth
|
| While I fuck the hoe, Lil' J break in her house
|
| Running routes, while you sit on the couch
|
| Running routes, racked up, we spazzing out
|
| She control it with her mouth
|
| While I fuck the hoe, Lil' J break in her house
|
| Running routes, while you sit on the couch
|
| Running routes, racked up, we spazzing out |