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Scared to talk 'bout money
When it's racks involved
They scared to say our name
'cause losing fans involved
I just walked up inside Prada
Dropped a twenty ball, yeah
Every time I touched a bag
It's extra large amount
I peep all the shit you do
Tryna jack my style hold up
'How the hell they do it?
I'm tryna figure it out'
Sipping on motor oil, dirty-ass cup
Almost look like brown
We ain't folding at all, gotta stay up
Gotta hold my ground which one
The X or the Perc'? I can't decide
Got the Cayenne sitting outside in the sun
That bitch is fried
I don't be replying, got a whole lot to do
Don't waste no time I ain't bragging
But I get paid now to sit down and rhyme
That boy broke as hell
We took a different route
Nigga, I get paid to just sit down and talk
That boy, he gon' bring my name up
'cause it comes with clout
And this ho, she knows we way too up
They tryna figure it out
Yeah, that lil' ho knows we too up
They tryna figure it out
Yeah, tryna figure out, took
A different road, yeah
Took a different, took a different route
Yeah, that boy, yeah, he knows me
He just wants clout
Bitch, I've been had racks since I was a teen
Yeah, nigga, I been off X, yeah
Like all week and a nigga sipping on drank
'cause it helps me sleep
That boy ain't sipping on drank
He sipping on green
Yeah, I just fucked this ho, that ho on E
That boy dissing
Turned his lil' ho to a fiend
Yeah, he tried his best
We still weren't impressed
Everybody got racks but we make
It looks the best
Why you capping 'bout them
Drugs? We are not impressed
And this bitch head go back like it was PEZ
I take a lot of Percs, I take a lot of X
I don't be listening to nobody, yeah
It's fuck the rest
Yeah, this Jeep on jeepers creepers
Two hundred on the dash
You don't be high as me, a hundred percent
I geek the best
She might drink up the nut or
Leave it on her chest
Yeah, y'all be fruit like chickens, yeah
Like you got some breasts
Yeah, hold on, hold on, what the fuck? Yeah
I forgot the rest
Yeah, this the big baller gang
Big baller chain
Yeah, I fuck my money up so much
He told me that it came
They told me go and sign a
Deal, I'm too rich now, I can't
Yeah, pockets fat, walk with
A limp, bitch, yeah, I got a cane
Scared to talk 'bout money
When it's racks involved
They scared to say our name
'cause losing fans involved
I just walked up inside Prada
Dropped a twenty ball, yeah
Every time I touched a bag
It's extra large amount
I peep all the shit you do
Tryna jack my style hold up
'How the hell they do it?
I'm tryna figure it out'
Sipping on motor oil, dirty-ass cup
Almost look like brown
We ain't folding at all, gotta stay up
Gotta hold my ground which one
The X or the Perc'? I can't decide
Got the Cayenne sitting outside in the sun
That bitch is fried
I don't be replying, got a whole lot to do
Don't waste no time I ain't bragging
But I get paid now to sit down and rhyme
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