Lyrics:
his chin
I just sit back thumbing thru these 20s, 50s, Benjamins
I get hella 100s, i love touching blue face money
Hit your hoe I'm in her stomach
I
drink everything, I'ma get drunk,
Watch the shoes, I'ma show ya dudes, I'm bout to pop the trunk,
I'ma be captivator, I'ma be calm,
Hat to the shirt,
When I can chop up a beat like this for this price and this nice
Why not get the bang for your buck before ya minced meat
I rock my jordan's
Your bars
momma, she don't have to work no mo'
I pay the bills by the flow from the studio
And I was out in the game by old players and G's
Hollerin 50
to admit it
I'm curious about you, you seem so innocent
You wanna get in my world, get lost in it
Boy, I'm tired of running, let's walk for a minute (hey)
crazy, baby
Don't forget that boy told you
Get that dirt off your shoulder
I probably owe it to y'all
Probably be locked by the force
Tryin' to hustle
Count my money boy, the paper don't miss
Everybody want a piece but they won't take a risk
Ya ya
Light show, spent a check up on the wrist
How you
Chorus
16 bars it prolly push ya to the edge
On my squad we jump n get back on the ledge
Wonder boy im prolly gettin to the bread
Verse
Cook that
Pearl tongue, come get up on this desk with me
Multiple orgasms is your destiny
Wet dream, ride like you're going to Queens
Like I just gave you fifty
Please get far away from me[00:49.16]Know you wanna stay,[00:50.51]Would tell you to pray for me but it's way too late[00:53.44]I see you moving
boys[00:09.55]Cant run they mouth[00:10.66]All these hunnids stickin to me[00:12.20]My shit can never go south[00:13.83]Im just a teen[00:14.73]Mtv[00:15.61]Living in
Are you kidding?
No I'm not
I just copped a 50 went and put it on my watch, yeah
I could drop a milly go and pop it on a stock
But I'd rather be
ya mouth
And I'm chasin' bags I ain't chasin' clout
Look
And I can't really promise anything
It took me 3 years just to get her ass a lil 50 dollar
bitch! And kept goin'
Now wait a minute, you're talking about my sister!
Fifty-cent juice drinkin' bitch!
Biatch!
Skepta boy Better
Boy boy Better Know
Send out to P-Jam, Culprit
Steve-O, ML, Ultra, foundation
Yo
Too experienced to be taken for a stroller
(Ya ya
core
I'm in her guts until she sore
Get sum ass then get some more
I'm balling u can check the score
Took ya hoe
That's my bitch
Smoked a 0
That high
it's over with)
Get up off your ass, stand by the door
You lazy in the trap (you really ain't sellin' shit)
I know I'ma make it out, but lately
I
dancing all over your city
Get rich or die trying, fifty
Never for the opps, pity
Always with the pack, litty
Fam be calling me chino
New Jack City me nino
ya, I just proved it
I set the tone, ya n****'s adjust to it
Spit bars, n****'s do sets and rep's to it
I'm the type that get 30 years and rep
just
by sending change through the mail
Dear Penny Ave, you got some explaining to do
These boys proudly tote guns and knives, and they probably aimed
Love to love to love ya
Love ya love ya love ya love ya
I go dey your body like skin tight
Wey I go dey by your side
Them times when I no get sicker
Wey
Harlem get the money up they got they money up
Harlem get the money up they got they money up
Harlem get the money up they got they money up
Harlem
got a lock ya, flavor to bring
Got the championships so I'ma savor the ring
Church boy, raised by my grand momma
Home-bred, I dead all the drama
I'm
jawn she so amazing
Seize my view
She got me gazing
Tranced by beauty
Mind got hazy
Time got skipped
That's daylight savings
Roll the blig
And get
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