| We got checks
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| Checks, checks, checks
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| (Run that shit up Squill)
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| Yeah, yeah
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| Walking through the spot with foreign fabric and them diamonds on my neck
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| I press that peddle and that caddy get to swerving, damn near wrecked
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| It’s like I sneezed and caught this feeling, mama told me, «Boy, you blessed»
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| I ain’t no bitch, and see, I never held my tongue
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| We got checks, checks, checks, checks
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| Bitch, I got my recipe, I whip it with my left, ayy
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| It ain’t no more posting on the block for you lil' niggas
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| Most these niggas bitches, I can tell it through they pictures
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| Real nigga, I’m a playmaker, don’t need Instagram
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| Show me your true colors then I seen it, niggas super lame
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| Oh, he think he Superman, fire him down with God’s hand
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| Put that bitch on molly now she screaming out them vibes in
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| Coast to coast, nigga, I’m connected like Verizon
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| Wavy nigga, see me walking up, like that tight end
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| Young nigga, I was going crazy on my crime binge
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| Really nigga, see me coast to coast, bitch, I’m tied
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| Clearport, hopping on that jet, now we rising
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| Bitch nigga talking 'bout he getting money, nigga, lie again
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| Riding low, cruising something tinted, like five percent
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| Gang out, foreigns back to back, better hide your bitch
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| Walking through the spot with foreign fabric and them diamonds on my neck
|
| I press that peddle and that caddy get to swerving, damn near wrecked
|
| It’s like I sneezed and caught this feeling, mama told me, «Boy, you blessed»
|
| I ain’t no bitch, and see, I never held my tongue
|
| We got checks, checks, checks, checks
|
| Bitch, I got my recipe, I whip it with my left, ayy
|
| It ain’t no more posting on the block for you lil' niggas
|
| Most these niggas bitches, I can tell it through they pictures |