| More money, m-m-m-more money
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| More money, m-m-more money
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| Woke up in the morning with my thoughts green
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| Queens!
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| {Verse One]
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| Banko prep for war already, clean out the store I’m petty
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| Half my life anticipating, fifteen years been touring heavy
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| Rappers in the mortuary, don’t get to draw I’m deadly
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| Victim files are more than plenty, bring on the semi, uh!
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| Ferragamo no colors, my shit designer all the time
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| Benji dollar my covers, I’m fit for commas, born to bomb
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| Hand me all the newcomers I body bag 'em, mow the lawn
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| Every time it’s a homi, shotty, magnum, forty-five
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| Bottles out with my niggas, congratulations to the mob
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| Wipe my ass with your favors, I got these haters on their job
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| Iron candy your flavors, you need some paper? |
| Go and rob
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| Ain’t no telling what the hell the money changes, oh my god
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| More money, m-m-m-more money
|
| More money, m-m-more money
|
| Woke up in the morning with my thoughts green
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| Queens, nigga
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| Never cared for fame connected, came in the game respected
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| Fuck opinions coming from pennies, we got the same objective
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| Rollie out the window slowly, them coppers aiming reckless
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| Broken necks you reach the next level, make me a necklace, uh!
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| Diamond crown on my caesar, my dog can squeeze and knock you off
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| Twenty in the lit Cohiba like a boss
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| Everybody’s somebody, another reason to lock the doors
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| Stamp me out of my Visa, Loubi' tees and lobster claws
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| Dollar sign in my social, my vocals trip to borderline
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| Busy lighting the purple, champagne in the morning time
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| Bitches hop on your wagon, ain’t have the faith before the shine
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| Shh, think I hear them calling, money coming, more to find
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| {Hook]
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| More money, m-m-m-more money
|
| More money, m-m-more money
|
| Woke up in the morning with my thoughts green
|
| Queens! |