| Ayy, ayy-ayy
|
| Gling, gling, gling, gling
|
| Uh, ayy, look how this shit drop
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| Hello? |
| hello, hello, hello
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| Whoo
|
| Hello?
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| Whoo who, who, ayy, ya dig
|
| I would never fall in love unless it is with money
|
| And then his chains went missing, then he started ducking
|
| Who he fronting, you ran up and then he started bustin
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| You wanna flow and I want hoes, so I guess you started something
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| I would never fall in love unless it is with money
|
| And then his chains went missing, then he started ducking
|
| Who you fronting, you ran up and then he started bustin
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| You wanna flow and I want hoes, I guess you started something
|
| 45, in your motherfucking skull
|
| Put you in the hearse
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| Louie bag on my waist with my designer shirt
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| And yo homies be the ones that put you in the dirt
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| Leave you dead, then they go up in your bitches skirt (they fuck your bitch)
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| Big rock, all my diamonds dance like tick tock
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| You a fake and all your homies dance on flip flop
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| I got your hoe from the bay, she look like criss cross
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| I pop a perc, stack my money then ball like Chris Bosh
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| I don’t care about another fucking hater
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| You the one always asking for a favor
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| Get the fuck up out my face, I’ll see you later
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| Another year go by and you still work for labor
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| I don’t care about another fucking hater
|
| You the one always asking for a favor
|
| Get the fuck up out my face, I’ll see you later
|
| Another year go by and you still work for labor |