Lyrics:
my money
Staying high, doing business, like the gass
By any means necessary, we gon get the cash
The fast money come in quick, get you hit
In your
Moving bags like the trash man narcs hot
Put that dope by the trash can blowing za
Im kinda low call the gas man if you running
Up the pro's get
good, he gon' eat it like a cookie
Your money short like Snookie
Breeze through ya block now it's suvy
Extended clip, we shoot a movie
Draco, it came with
a cold nose
Slayin' these so-so's to extinction dodos
I leave they brains outside they skull like Mojo Jojo
The spit-game senseis, dem say
Hoes no kick it
it right
Or you'll be 6 feet deep by the end of my crime
Wanna be an enemy
You can meet my 9
For all these pussy boys
I don't go no time
Mix all
Nigga it must be nice
Carry-out nigga got killed by his rice
Nigga ain't push up yeah don't believe in the hype
Wock in the Gatorade give me
(Suburban)
I got a Glock if you act hard (Bop, bop, bop)
Extended mag get to dumpin’ (Dumpin’)
Bullets, hollow, get to thumpin’ (Thumpin’)
Running man get
defending
Man
Fuck is you talking bout get up off my dick
Niggas be chasing clout looking like a bitch
Letting them thangs rang out got them in the mix
Taking
While I'm surrounded by bitches with guns and sex toys
Blind love for money, head, and warm steel
Coke off the boat wrapped in banana peels
Life's so
now now now
Yagga yagga yo yo (Ok get it straight)
[Chorus:]
We don't mix it, so we don't deal wid fly
Dat's why I request peaches, and give her
I keep tabs on u niggas Clair huxtable
My strap got extended clip it’s adjustable
My pop told me make sure u good by yo self
Before u do that u
Shakwanda hand me my cop-corn
Ok Nia, hit me with the tee girl
Yo It started off like just another day
Pocket money running low, man I gotta get paid
Piggy
Oooo I need some money
Out here in the hood
Man these niggas sell you stories
I can't spend a dime can't let a nigga see me sorry
A jug could getchu
niggas play tag
This cash in my pocket it's gone make me sag
Put dick in her throat I hope she do not gag
P ninety gone come with a extended mag
He hating
My twin he finna double up, just dropped down on some bricks
Remember I was broke, I mix that exo with the tris I won't even say shit, pull up dolo
a milestone
People calling me, asking me for money, man
The only thing I'mma give you motherfuckers is the dial tone
God damn, god damn, we at it again
Me
too many spies
I don't mix up with too many man
When it's time to cut the pie
Then there's too many hand
Won't roll their sleeves
To give u any hand
No
stow on
Ayy, Ayy
Man this chopper make me lean like a cholo
What you mean, I got lean by the boatload
Ayy, countin' racks in my Lo-Lo
Ayy got the money
in love with a stripper yo!
(Yo baby, can I get another lap dance? I tell you I
got nothing but funny money, man. New York Dogs.)
in love with a stripper yo!
(Yo baby, can I get another lap dance? I tell you I
got nothing but funny money, man. New York Dogs.)
in love with a stripper yo!
(Yo baby, can I get another lap dance? I tell you I
got nothing but funny money, man. New York Dogs.)
sucker for his money
It's so funny
Cars ride by, with the boomin' system
Sayin, "Leave him alone, my man already dissed him"
Now I'm
I came from the trenches it not what it seem
All that I had was my glock and a dream
Extended the clip like we shooting a scene
They flip like
you a dummy
I'm married to money
Ion want no friends
Glock 17
Ion kno what gen
Yea I'm ReyDaGoon
Nigga I been the man
Flexing since a kid
I really go in
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