Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Check n Cash, artist - Vado. Album song V-Day II, in the genre Рэп и хип-хопDate of issue: 09.02.2015
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: dmg
Song language: English
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) |