| Think it’s a game
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| Bobby Kritical
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| Ooh, huh
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| Too much bands, nigga can’t hold up his pants
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| Hit the club doin' my dance
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| I been gettin' way too money, trappin' all night
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| So I give the bitch pipe when I can
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| I been on way too many Delta flights
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| So the pilot and the flight attendants know who I am
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| Used to serve grams out a grey Dodge van
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| Even back then, I was doin' my dance
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| Even my teachers said I wouldn’t be shit
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| Even my priest said I wouldn’t be shit
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| That’s why I spent that much on my wrist
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| That’s why I spent that much on your bitch
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| I’m the same nigga, I ain’t never had shit
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| I’m the same young nigga that was gettin' wick'
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| Better not think this shit no lick
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| I can make one call, get your whole shit flipped, bitch
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| Yeah
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| Young nigga walk around with a whole hundred on him, goddamn (Ooh shit, goddamn,
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| goddamn)
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| Young nigga walk around with a whole hundred bands (Shit, shit)
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| Hit the strip club, these bitches know just who I am (Hah, it’s Q Money)
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| Hit the strip club, blow that money like a fan (Ain't shit funny)
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| Got too much bands (Yeah)
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| Battle of the bands in my pants (It's goin')
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| Nigga, you a fan (Goddamn)
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| I’m poppin' shit like a Xan', poppin' shit, Perc-10 (Yeah)
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| Private jet when I land (Private jet)
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| Palm trees in the sand (Yeah, yeah, yeah)
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| Bought a new FN
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| Hit you and your mans (Fire, fire)
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| What the fuck is you sayin'? |
| (Fire, fire)
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| Fuck is you sayin'? |
| (Huh)
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| Niggas counted me out, I was sleepin' on the couch
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| Why the fuck was you doubtin'? |
| Yeah
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| Keep a nine on me, no golf, yeah
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| Nigga had to find his way out, yeah
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| Nigga had to take a different route
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| Fuck around, got a deal, then moved to the South (Think It’s a Game)
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| Yeah, I was tryna make my mama proud
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| Remember when her ass used to kick me out
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| Now I’m 'bout to fuck around, buy a new house
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| And guess what? |
| Still gon' fuck on her couch
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| Fuck 'round, get my mouth bustdown
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| My grandma told me to invest in my smile
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| Brand new Rollie with a Arabic dial
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| Bought a bracelet 'cause the other hand felt left out
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| Two-tone Cuban on my neck right now
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| Just like my wrist, your bitch bustdown, yeah
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| Yeah
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| Young nigga walk around with a whole hundred on him, goddamn (Goddamn, goddamn)
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| Young nigga walk around with a whole hundred bands (That's a fact, nigga)
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| Hit the strip club, these bitches know just who I am (It's Q Money)
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| Hit the strip club, blow that money like a fan (Ain't shit funny)
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| Got too much bands (Yeah)
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| Battle of the bands in my pants
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| Nigga, you a fan (For real)
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| I’m poppin' shit like a Xan', poppin' shit, Perc-10 (Ten)
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| Private jet when I land (Land, land)
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| Palm trees in the sand
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| Bought a new FN (Fire)
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| Hit you and your mans (Fire)
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| What the fuck is you sayin'? |
| (Fire)
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| Fuck is you sayin'? |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Whole 100 , by - Q Money. Song from the album How You Gon Hate, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп