Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Stash It, artist - VL Deck
Date of issue: 15.02.2018
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Stash It |
All this money comin' fast, I can’t find nowhere to stash it |
Lil mama ass fat, huh, I can’t wait to smash it |
Chokers on my neck boy, yeah I’m rockin' carats |
You can throw it in the bag, bitch I think I’m Fabolous |
All this shit came off of gas, never seen advance check |
I just sent like thirty bags down to the projects |
I got one, two, three, four shooters clutchin' carbons |
I got bad bitches and they ass fat |
Rock designer bags and they shoes match |
They whole squad pretty, all y’all can get it |
They on Live with it, they hashtag litty |
We on the sofa, poppin' bottles, I just capped for fifty |
Paparazzi snappin' pictures, everybody lookin' |
Gold bottles everywhere, this is a motion movie |
Fuck work, bitch said it’s goin' up on Tuesday |
Parkin' lot, I killed them, I left the top roofless |
Boss bitch with me named Cookie so I’m Lucious |
Forty shots, no handgun, I’m shootin' a baby Uzi |
220 on the dash, I hit the gas, I bet I lose 'em |
All this money comin' fast, I can’t find nowhere to stash it |
Lil mama ass fat, huh, I can’t wait to smash it |
Chokers on my neck boy, yeah I’m rockin' carats |
You can throw it in the bag, bitch I think I’m Fabolous |
All this shit came off of gas, never seen advance check |
I just sent like thirty bags down to the projects |
I got one, two, three, four shooters clutchin' carbons |
I don’t need burglar bars, German Shephards in my yard |
Merry Christmas, Happy New Years, I bought choppers for the squad |
I been robbin' since a youngin, I put trackers on your Dodge |
You a rapper, I’m a clapper, Put a hundred in your Ford |
I got one, two, three, four M’s in my bank account |
Five, six, seven, eight niggas ready to shake you down |
I ain’t with the fake shit, fake dap, fake pics |
AR with the scope, I give your pussy ass a face lift |
Moncler jacket cost a thirty, I ain’t cappin' |
Army fatigue boots two thousand, I ain’t cappin' (a bag) |
I ain’t talkin' clothes, lil nigga I’m talkin' trappin' (no swag) |
Ask around the city, everybody know that we 'bout action (21, 21) |
All this money comin' fast, I can’t find nowhere to stash it |
Lil mama ass fat, huh, I can’t wait to smash it |
Chokers on my neck boy, yeah I’m rockin' carats |
You can throw it in the bag, bitch I think I’m Fabolous |
All this shit came off of gas, never seen advance check |
I just sent like thirty bags down to the projects |
I got one, two, three four shooters clutchin' carbons |
I’m in the brackets by myself, yeah, I’m forever servin' |
Prophet to the trap, some call me the eight sermon |
I be where it’s bite and slash scary, but I’m never nervous |
Horses in the engine, if I hit it watch my whip swerve |
Mask on, creep silent, watch me perv |
I’m a situation starter but I’m excellent with words |
I’m fanatic with them bags and I just jugg off them birds |
And I’m a rack real haver so I talk with a slur |
Mastermind of the trap but cleaned it up with rap |
I got racks on racks on racks and all this shit here came off cap |
Every time I talk that jug shit, I know you wanna trap |
(I'm talkin' numbers on these beats boy, nah this ain’t rap) |
Nothin' but trap talk |