Lyrics Check n Cash - Vado

Check n Cash

Condos what I think about
Big yachts what I dream about
Eight figures in my bank account
I put a mattress in the trap house
That’s the type of shit I think about (2x)
I bought the swipers to the trap house
And they can clear a nigga bank account (2x)
(SLIME!)
First off rest in peace Shank & Boo Gotti
Found out leaving the bank in a Bugatti
Streets don’t love you the hate is a new hobby
Still in the p’s getting cake from two lobbies (All Day)
Young Master P with a tank and new army (Sup?)
Tell me what you need if it’s weight got two on me (Early)
Been a bull since MJ and Luc Longley
Millionaire’s some be fake they too corny (I know)
Tried to cut me out of a deal can’t coupon me (I know)
Thousand feet far from the kill I shoot calmly
BLAOW
I’m the man I’m that cool (Vado!)
My new drum line bring more bands than black schools
I tell rappers I’m not a fan I’m that rude (At all)
Ya shit trash like garbage cans with raccoons (HA!)
AMG GT rubbing behind the coupe SX3 the seats hugging
Couldn’t hit the strip all week police flooded
I been learn like Fishbourne, they deep covered
Had to make a trip OT they speak southern
I got to pay this big OG he need something (S'word!)
Snow riftin', kids is four-fifin'
The new gun stainless so is the whole kitchen (HA!)
Open up in Boston market the whole chicken (Wassup!)
Beside audio I can give you the whole vision
Nigga
Condos what I think about
Big yachts what I dream about
Eight figures in my bank account
I put a mattress in the trap house
That’s the type of shit I think about (2x)
I bought the swipers to the trap house
And they can clear a nigga bank account (2x)
Sitting on the bench with my chain with some hot shorties
Waiting to get put in the game and drop forty (Yes)
Stay away from the cane my block want me
Just go in the booth get paid you got stories (Heard You)
Don’t play with them Rich Porter was weighing them
But that’s eighties terror my era was Baby J and em' (Harlem!)
Pop Lotti, Mack, Choppie, and em
Vacant lot was hot Ruff Rydaz awaken them
I’m something like back in the day
Floor seats you can’t see mink hat in the way
Success the key to it is a package of ye
If your ex fuck broke dudes that’s a smack in the face
Kept a bird on my shoulder had to learn all the quotas
I know drug dealers and killas turn to promoters
Worn everyday nigga had to turn to a soldier
Having breakfast crab cakes served with mimosas
I ain’t shitting I’m light spitting
I come through in that new edition like Mike Bivin’s
Your work good but off and on like light switches
Come to Harlem I’m in the hood like white sixes
Condos what I think about
Big yachts what I dream about
Eight figures in my bank account
I put a mattress in the trap house
That’s the type of shit I think about (2x)