Lyrics Millions - Skeme

Millions

9 mm lick a shot to leave a hole
Ridin with them choppas if it’s problems let me know
Pull a bad bitch and tell her leave her feelings at the door
Cause baby we don’t need love where we about to go
We are, we are, we are bout to go a million more, million more, million more
Stepped in this bitch like I’m supposed to
Outfit match whips like I meant to do it
Heard your shit, just drive my nigga
Earring so big can’t listen to it
And I’m straight from the gut, double my cup
So I’mma act all poet I mix this fluid
A real nigga really don’t rock with y’all
It take a real down nigga like us to do it
See I done kept it G from the flow-up
Stayed on the bread like cold cuts
Money never ditched paid attention like donuts
So I’m in the fast lane I don’t wish to hold up nigga
Been with the business from the go young nigga
Now I’m in the Ghini with the doors up nigga
I like talk about cash I don’t talk too fast, y’all just listen too slow young
nigga like
I don’t want to leave the wrong impression
Set work out now I’m flexin
I get the kind of paper that’ll stand out
So now me and broke niggas ain’t messin, word
Hundreds on hundreds for the love of the money nigga
Try to play me I bought mine I’m gunnin
Ate my plate had seconds and shit and the crazy thing is that the boys still
hungry
I stayed on the grind and the green came
S.O.X.
nigga we the green gang
Straight from the outer it’s a team thing so I told her I don’t wanna hear that
the team came, hey
I ain’t got the time for it, bop, and her feelings
Got it on the floor now we throw it at the ceiling
Y’all don’t take floor act like y’all ain’t even know got my dough on dough and
I’m bout to go a million
Y’all ain’t getting this kind of money got a Brinks truck
Reach for what’s mine get your fingers cut
Champagne cold and the Rolex gold
Got the wrist of a God nigga link me up
Gettin head out a bitch tell her pick me up
First class in the clouds Scotty beam me up
Holla R.I.P.
pimp, got drank in my cup
And I’m sipping on lean with my pinkies up