Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Stash It, artist - VL DeckDate 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 |