| Bitches want money stacks, I just want my percent
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| She told me to hit the hole, I used to play running back
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| You niggas be fumbling, don’t you give 'em no gun again
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| These bitches be flying out, yeah, 'cause money be coming in
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| Said the money be coming in, the money be coming in
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| The money be coming in, the money be coming in
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| See you niggas just run your mouth, yeah
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| My niggas, we run the city
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| The money be coming in, the money be coming in
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| Look, my bitch is on Tumblr
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| Your bitch need a tummy tuck
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| Since Jesus of Nazareth
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| The realest you’ve come across
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| I be with killers just coming home
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| They only hope is me and the Quran
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| They only wish is for a new chain
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| But they stuck up in the ankle bracelet
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| I get the money stacked
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| See the moon’s where it’s sunny at
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| And I move where the realest be
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| And the quickest, see baby, you gettin' lapped
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| Yeah, the DMV on the map
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| That’s a city, two states if you can count
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| I’m as real as I say, I never lie
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| So whenever I go, know I’m runnin' back
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| Bitches want money stacks, I just want my percent
|
| She told me to hit the hole, I used to play running back
|
| You niggas be fumbling, don’t you give 'em no gun again
|
| These bitches be flying out, yeah, 'cause money be coming in
|
| Said the money be coming in, the money be coming in
|
| The money be coming in, the money be coming in
|
| See you niggas just run your mouth, yeah
|
| My niggas, we run the city
|
| The money be coming in, the money be coming in
|
| These bitches want money stacks
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| Me? |
| I want a hundred stacks
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| These bitches sellin' they soul
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| Well, I want my money back
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| She bounce it like jumpin' jacks
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| But she got a funny ass
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| Look what them booty shots done to that
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| That bitch need her money back, Lord
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| She like the finer things
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| She said I sent her a diamond ring
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| She say I buy her all kinds of things
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| She lie about everything
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| I put her on time out and everything
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| I cut the bitch off like a thread of string
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| These hoes’ll say about anything
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| 'Cause they know that y’all believe everything
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| That’s why I get high about every day
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| All of this fog like the weather change
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| Turn the strip club to a hurricane
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| We got that cocaine, snow flurry gang
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| And we do not play games 'bout money, mane
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| She do something strange for money, mane
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| Yeah, I used to play running back
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| I turned that football to a money bag, I’m gone
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| Bitches want money stacks, I just want my percent
|
| She told me to hit the hole, I used to play running back
|
| You niggas be fumbling, don’t you give 'em no gun again
|
| These bitches be flying out, yeah, 'cause money be coming in
|
| Said the money be coming in, the money be coming in
|
| The money be coming in, the money be coming in
|
| See you niggas just run your mouth, yeah
|
| My niggas, we run the city
|
| The money be coming in, the money be coming in
|
| We balling, we balling
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| Balling (balling), hey darling (hey darling)
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| Sweet darling (hey darling), you know we ballin'
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| We balling, Wale, fuck with me
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| Mula baby
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| Yeah, Blue Moon, yeah
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| We gon' ball all season, whole season and post-season
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| For no reason, fuck with me |