Lyrics:
Ridin' round the city tryna jugg
I'm just getting money doing it as I should
Know y'all boys would if you really just could
I don't care what they
know what's going on over there
Ruger
Keep talkin', I'ma hang you by your tongue
Off the Def Jam building, wait for the cops to come
Little bum, fuck
money, and soon I let him know,
cnd when he took his knife I proved his overthrow!”
clong she took him by the hand and led him to the place
Where this
number 1 dont get caught by these bitches
They might set u up u think u gettin pussy then niggas pull up u get caught in ya britches
Pow pow
Money driven
gettin' money you just in the way.
(Verse 1)
We tellin' jokes while we in the bank.
Shrimp and steak on my dinner plate.
Diamonds shinin' all up in your
sticks and set the trap
Bitch I feel like I'm home alone
Yeah my pistol it be black
But all them pills inside be chrome
Gettin money through the back
Until
boots laced (Uhn)
Gave her fourth dollas skipped two dates (Uhhnnn)
Medusa on a bean ‘til she bluefaced
Mobbin’ wit’ gunnas they pistol poppin’ & dumpin’
and jus flush em
Uh
Uh
Me and Swerve on a pick and roll call that a two man political
Switch on the Glock issa automatic pistol
Factory Glock no jam it's
Yeah, Struggle and Strive, NAM
GFM, God, Family, Money
Smoke good, drink good, nigga
Yeah, SGE
Otay a nigga like me hotter than a stove dat got fo'
gone expect from you (no expectations)
Got boundaries I can’t allow it
Hate when I start gettin rowdy
Thinkin got my mental cloudy
I don’t wanna
hide from us
I can send a ghost and leave
A nigga whole block haunted
Catch two lackin’ and knock em out
We call it And 1in (YoungBoy)
Can’t run from
Ooo she gettin moody
(Verse 1)
(2DaMax)
Yeah
She know I'm gettin paid
She can be my ace, got bottles of the spade
All my clothes fit, yeah I need em
Wake your punk ass up for the
Two double oh five brother
Young Money, the future
Hot boy in the building
Rock hard, hard rock hard body
Got it in
Trill Fam., Young Savage you can catch me
Fresh kicks, fresh bows, and a fresh tee
We two crucial ass hoes yea that's me
Look at him his eyes closed
[Chorus: Krayzie & (Layzie)]
Them callin' me Mr. Bill Collector,
Needin' me money, no ease up tonight,
(See niggas can't stand us, so they label
the block
Uh, niggas out here beggin', I'd rather rob
Like fuck a GoFundMe, go find a job
These rappers are my sons, take note
Gucci Mane's Bart Simpson,
This is my mother fucking house, eh I'm by the front door
Here about a blond haired bitch name Sisco
She'll do anything for daddy man the bitch go
goin' again
First Z got murked, then Roy got murked
And homie still in the hood, why he ain't gettin' hurt?
I smell somethin' fishy, man, it might be
to the wack MC's --> repeat 4X
(Welcome to the Slaughtahouse!)
Too many suckas, too many wack records gettin played
Too much money bein made, it's time for
with a new chick that I barely know
Gettin' to know by two mans
Oh WOAH
I'm gettin' money like every day Don't know my private life anyway
I need that
Ayo, where the fuck is that blunt at?
Where y'all niggas hoggin' the shit man?
Two pulls of that shit nigga start gettin' paranoid and shh
Get
money, get hit with the pistol
Shooters around me, I swear they official
You can get left, no we never miss you
Like grah, like grah
Shooters around me, I
money Kung-Fu
I comin' down with the flu, I turn one into two
I made a FOE to a team, when it bought my a Benz
I'm a A1-Nigga, all we do is a trance
I'm a boss
I did this shit by myself
Bitch I said
Fuck the cost
I been got rid
Of some pounds
Got me feelin
Like Ross
I can't stop
Gettin it now
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