| Ooh! |
| Ooh!
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| Slime! |
| Ey!
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| This for them bitches who thinkin' they real, but really they fake
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| This for them niggas who think that they thuggin', but really the ain’t
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| This for them niggas that really be trappin' up out the ra-a-ain
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| I married that choppa you know that she with it
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| I call her my ba-a-ae
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| These niggas ain’t shit, yea, don’t know why they hatin' on me
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| I’ma run up that money, I still be stuntin'
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| Got blue faced hunnits on me
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| I’ma keep goin' in and they keep on comin'
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| Lotta faces on me
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| I’m chasing that money, from Monday to Sunday
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| Got a big bank on me
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| I do the dash in the winter, young nigga fly like propella (brrr)
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| DJ Khaled, man I need me another one
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| When we do it, do it better
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| No, I’m not writing no letter
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| NBA new Rockafeller
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| These bitches ain’t shit, wanna suck on my dick
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| Right after she fucked my nigga
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| She raising her voice when I battle
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| She tell me to go out, go faster
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| I think that I’m losing my stamina
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| I think that I need me a challenger
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| Back at it again, just me and twins
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| Tag teamin' her friend, we having her
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| She told me she real but I know that she fake
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| Lil' shorty ain’t told me no capping her
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| This for them bitches that’s thinkin' they real, but really they fake
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| This for them niggas that’s thinkin' that they thuggin', but really the ain’t
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| This for them niggas that really be trappin' up out the ra-a-ain
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| I married that choppa you know that she with it
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| I call her my ba-a-ae
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| These niggas ain’t shit, yea, don’t know why they hatin' on me
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| I’ma run up that money, I steady be stuntin'
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| Got blue faced hunnits on me
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| I’ma keep goin' in and they keep on comin'
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| Lotta faces on me
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| I’m chasing that money, from Monday to Sunday
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| Got a big bank on me
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| Too many bands in my bank account
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| A lot of blue hunnits, a large amount
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| Got a brick of some dope, put that shit on the boat
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| When it come to the money, we ain’t runnin' out
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| No money buried in that Federal
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| Niggas hate but they ain’t on my level though
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| I swear that they nowhere compatible
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| Smokin' Gelato and sippin' on medical
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| I’m really a felon, still grippin' the FN, might catch me a ca-a-ase
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| Pull up to the show in a brand new Benz and we leave in a Wra-a-aith
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| I told all my niggas: «It's no new friends», cause these niggas be fa-a-ake
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| I got out my feelings and got in the bag, 30 racks in a sa-a-afe
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| All of my niggas, they Crippin', they love them blue Benji’s
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| I run that check up, I guess that’s why they hatin'
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| Everyday I be drippin', these brand new Balenci’s
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| My shirt made by Louis, my shoes, they Givenchy
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| My girl like that Gucci but I like the Fendi
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| It’s a deuce in my cup, I don’t fuck with the Henny
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| These chains 'round my neck cost a brand new Bent
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| If you try to come take it, get hit with a semi
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| I want the money, I want designer
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| I want that bitch cause she look finer
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| I want the Louis, I want the Fendi
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| I mix Chanel belts with Givenchy
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| He cappin' in rap, so no, I can’t sign him
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| He forgot I was on, man I had to remind him
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| I’m not lost in the sauce, everyday I be grindin'
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| Bust down Rollie, perfect timing
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| This for them bitches who thinkin' they real, but really they fake
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| This for them niggas who think that they thuggin', but really the ain’t
|
| This for them niggas that really be trappin' up out the ra-a-ain
|
| I married that choppa you know that she with it
|
| I call her my ba-a-ae
|
| These niggas ain’t shit, yea, don’t know why they hatin' on me
|
| I’ma run up that money, I still be stuntin'
|
| Got blue faced hunnits on me
|
| I’ma keep goin' in and they keep on comin'
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| Lotta faces on me
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| I’m chasing that money, from Monday to Sunday
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| Got a big bank on me
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| Slime! |