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much exotic in the trap, how live 
Told Sweat I'd go 'head and get 'em a vet
Skrr-skrr, yeah, skrr-skrr, got bails
Made too many men with the mail, I
back, no tense
You got a bag of grub it cost you about fifty cents
No fear, no fuckin' feats
Malt liquor tastes much better on the streets

Crusting,
I’m dancing
Without even busting ah move get blew fa banging that blue
Look mama whatcha wanna do wanna fuck we getting ah room
Hundreds fifty we
stand to cower
The laws of power
I don't know why I must run
But I know you need me too much, yeah
Why I'm always racing
My heart just cannot take it
It's
Chorus 2:

(Jamaican)
Niggahs always move 
like they can see 
in the night 

Ive been gone Too long 
seen too much 
No wine 

I’ve been smoking
niggas, Dru Hill to drew down
And I'm prayin' they set
Instead, most artists don't live as good as the execs
And they end up depressed
Scarred by A&Rs,
her body 
She’s too fucking spent! 

I’m the king bitch 
You ain’t gonna win this
All this talkin
But I ain’t seen you do shit 
Gold and diamonds 
One
Old girl
Loose ends 
Back rub 
Too tense
Bad bitch
10 cents
Bank on sixth sense 
Life on third eye
I'm on third base
She on third leg 
Got head
Didn't
drippin blue homeboy lookin like he ballin
Got the tints at 5 percent he came in bumpin 50 cent
I cant wait to hit this lick, make him think of many men
you're passing to me
Ain't picky
But I'm chasing every high with some weed
Outta outta my way
Way too busy to be
Bothered by these civil activists
that's us
Just by the way we ROLLING in bottles of Moe we pouring it
Too much money to be made
So much money to be got
When they ask us why we did it
Did
for the sichy
All these bitches say they love me
But these bitches wasn't with me
I'm a mix of all the rappers
Mostly Gucci Mane and 50
I get coochie by
All this
Money
Falling
Whoa
Fifties
Hundreds
Dropping
Whoa
Yeah
They fall like whoa
Yeah
Rolling up we got cabbage and
That always fresh lavish
like suicides do or die
Fuck school skipping class, I got way too much pride
My dawgs by my side the blunt rolled tight
I ain't sleeping right, eating
Countin up 
By Frank Whyte & Killa Beatz

Hook1
Frank Whyte :
Started off fifty thousand 
Came up hundred thousand 
Too much I can't count it 
Go
McGrady
And i just wanna ball so hard
I gotta build thе A-team
Oh my goodness, i like 50, 20s
I feel like Chief Sosa by the
Way im in my 20s
They asked me
and turned it to a mound
Build it now
I worry too much about COVID
And my lyrics
Always written with a motive
The same message
Reproduced need protection
focus on you
I’ve seen a lot
I know my heart, it doesn’t stop for nobody no, (oh)
(i’ve been blown away too by you, you know)
Feel the wind brush your
Crowism jewish and Spanish people
Will by default face these
Consequences too when
The Fourth Reich takes off, Wops
And Spics will face
Segregation for
Life has been abusive
Seekin' restitution
A lot of niggas talk too much 
Vocal prostitution
Really clueless
Former friends turned to Judas
Now they
That make us believe, when we lyin', we honest, I love you
Pick, Michael Jackson or Jordan or Tyson or Myers
Too much dirty money when the colors are
a bet I turn the ace up, $hort and Jay, what

Verse two: Too $hort

I never stop making money dont give 'em no slack
Drinking dirty motherf**kers til
adjacent
We ain't talkin' no business until you send a payment
I dont too much talkin I let my work make a statement
And I don't take you niggas serious
I've Been Waiting Way Too Long (prod. by Moonside)

(Chorus)
I’ve been working way too hard
I’ve been waiting way too long
They been hating way too

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