| I walk in the booth and I pour out my soul
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| Sold all these P’s to buy diamonds and gold
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| If we talkin' G, then I’m fittin' the mold
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| Bitch I’m the shit just like I’m a commode
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| You comin' home with me, baby, come on
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| What’s all that hate for, lil' nigga? |
| Come on
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| I swear your silhouette turnin' me on
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| Turn them bags on my artists, they get that shit gone
|
| These niggas ain’t ballin', they injury-prone
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| Had to cut this bitch off, she keep callin' my phone
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| I make her scream, I make her moan
|
| I put the 2.5 inside of a cone
|
| Got her wet like a yacht on the beach in Miami
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| You still see her ass through them pants and they baggy
|
| Got that pack on the way, I just checked on the trackin'
|
| My bitch on the way, she gon' give me some action
|
| Yeah, I’m on Rodeo, I just seen LeBron
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| I swear I feel better with you in my arms
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| I know for sure that the world in my palms
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| I’m burnin' on pressure, that shit make me calm
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| She love watchin' me spit on the mic and make songs
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| I love watchin' her frolic around in a thong
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| Yes, it’s true, Money Man is a king like I’m Kong
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| I’m stayin' sharp like the sword and the stone
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| Fly as hell, you know I’m fly like a drone
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| All my hoes sexy, they bad to the bone
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| I lift niggas up, I don’t put niggas on
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| 800 bucks for an ounce of cologne
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| I swear she conceited and no, I can’t blame her
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| She all 'bout her business and no one can change her
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| I trap in the projects, that shit be so dangerous
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| These niggas be crossin', that shit got me angry
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| I turned down the show, the promoter was janky
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| I just met a hacker and he had me thinkin'
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| A nigga want smoke then I’m leavin' him stankin'
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| I don’t shoot the breeze but I will shoot this rifle
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| I be flippin' them whips, I just got me a title
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| She come to the spot and give head like a visor
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| I don’t have a budget, I don’t need advisors
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| Oh, oh, oh
|
| Oh, oh, oh
|
| I walk in the booth and I pour out my soul
|
| Sold all these P’s to buy diamonds and gold
|
| If we talkin' G, then I’m fittin' the mold
|
| Bitch I’m the shit just like I’m a commode
|
| You comin' home with me, baby, come on
|
| What’s all that hate for, lil' nigga? |
| Come on
|
| I swear your silhouette turnin' me on
|
| Turn them bags on my artists, they get that shit gone
|
| These niggas ain’t ballin', they injury-prone
|
| Had to cut this bitch off, she keep callin' my phone
|
| I make her scream, I make her moan
|
| I put the 2.5 inside of a cone
|
| Got her wet like a yacht on the beach in Miami
|
| You still see her ass through them pants and they baggy
|
| Got that pack on the way, I just checked on the trackin'
|
| My bitch on the way, she gon' give me some action |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song My Soul , by - Money Man. Song from the album Paranoia, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп