| Man, this menu’s fucking weird
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| Yo, what the fuck is «beans on toast»?
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| Wait, hold up, hold up
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| -Good evening, gentleman, what will you be having this evening?
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| -Uh, you got no fries here?
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| -Um, no, we do not have any fries, I’m so sorry
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| -Alright, I’ll get the, uh, bangers and ass
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| -Ah yes, and for you sir?
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| -Yeah, I’ll get the same shit
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| -Ah, perfect, that’ll be two orders of bangers and ass
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| Excellent choice
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| I got that, rolly
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| My diamonds, they holy
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| Your girlfriend, below me
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| She sucking my balogna
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| Stinky money, stinky money, stinky money
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| Man, that shit’s smelling funny
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| I got that, stinky
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| Ice on my, pinky
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| Lexanis on my 'Ghini
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| I got that tiny weenie
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| Stinky money, stinky money, stinky money
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| Man, that shit’s smelling funny
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| Yeah
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| Pull up with the bag, I don’t mean to brag
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| But I got them racks, smelling like a rag
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| Zeroes on the tags, light up, take a drag
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| Stinky like my cash, that shit make you gag (yah)
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| All this money laundered (yeah)
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| But it still smell like death (okay)
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| I wake up talking cheddar (uh), just call that morning breath (ha)
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| I stack this paper tall, them smelly, soggy racks, (ay)
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| My wallet on the table, she said, «Did you rip ass?»
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| She two-faced for the blue face, boy you can’t trust these hoes (nuh-uh)
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| You want these bands, baby?
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| Toucan Sam, bitch follow your nose
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| I got that, rolly
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| My diamonds, they holy
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| Your girlfriend, below me
|
| She sucking my baloney
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| Stinky money, stinky money, stinky money
|
| Man, that shit’s smelling funny
|
| I got that, stinky
|
| Ice on my, pinky
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| Lexanis on my 'Ghini
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| I got that tiny weenie
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| Stinky money, stinky money, stinky money
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| Man, that shit’s smelling funny
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| My money stinky as fuck, call that shit Pepé Le Pew
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| Got a hundred bands in my Louis bag, Jack smell like a got a skunk in the coop
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| Now I got the feds in my whip
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| Looking for a pack in the glovebox
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| Covering they nose when they open up the duffle
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| Thinking that the motherfucker got gym socks
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| My bands be seasoned with stripper shit
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| That’s what I like to call chocolate chips
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| Your bank account lookin' tore up
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| I got old bread, make you wanna throw up (uh)
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| Reach into my ass, pull out cash, you like, «Who the fuck?
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| That a damn deposit or some ten-year aged gouda, bitch?»
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| I got that, rolly
|
| My diamonds, they holy
|
| Your girlfriend, below me
|
| She sucking my baloney
|
| Stinky money, stinky money, stinky money
|
| Man, that shit’s smelling funny
|
| I got that, stinky
|
| Ice on my, pinky
|
| Lexanis on my 'Ghini
|
| I got that tiny weenie
|
| Stinky money, stinky money, stinky money
|
| Man, that shit’s smelling funny |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Stinky Money , by - Tiny Meat Gang. Song from the album Bangers & Ass, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп