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Baby Money

Carlos Deshawn Fischer, known professionally as Baby Money, is an American rapper from Detroit, who is currently signed to Quality Control Music. He is noted as a prominent figure of the Detroit hip hop scene. more »

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(Look out, Veno)
(Veno gon' cook up, he mix the ingredients)

I feel like crime, feel like
Brodie off a thirty, okay
Forty deuce in Wockhardt, I'm James Worthy
Okay
Last nigga played with me, he got murdered
Okay they sent a lot 'cause they
Get paid in a hurry, okay
Trackhawk do a hundred, eight seconds, no way
Ain't got no pussy in four days
We been gettin' more pape'
I don't f*ck with yellow gold
My kit look like rosé
He upped his pole, he ain't
Blow, now he gone, okay

Two weeks, four states
I been thumbin' through a bag
Just to see my nigga smile
Would get a hundred niggas whacked
Kill your shooter and your boss, nigga
Ain't no gettin' back
Niggas see the train leavin'
Now they tryna get on track
Guess I was 'posed to leave
'em, couple niggas loyal
But the most was greedy
I pulled three hundred out the bank
To make sure I'm legal
The work came from out the way
This bitch from Costa Rica
The top down in the snow to
Make sure they see me
When y'all was pourin' all that green
We was pourin' Keisha
They asked me how I live so
Long 'cause I know the reaper
My nigga play around with keys
Like he know Alicia
I dropped out and made a million
Now I ho the teachers

I feel like crime, feel like
Brodie off a thirty, okay
Forty deuce in Wockhardt, I'm James Worthy
Okay
Last nigga played with me, he got murdered
Okay they sent a lot 'cause they
Get paid in a hurry, okay
Trackhawk do a hundred, eight seconds, no way
Ain't got no pussy in four days
We been gettin' more pape'
I don't f*ck with yellow gold
My kit look like rosé
He upped his pole, he ain't
Blow, now he gone, okay

Nigga, I'm just tryna run it up
A kit on every one of us
I had my first fifty at sixteen
I was young as f*ck niggas dumb as f*ck
Workin' like I'm comin' up
Even on a light day
My jewelry be a hundred plus
I'm jumpin' on and off that
Road like it's double dutch
I got a play to get us rich
Tell them huddle up
I fell in love with my stick
We like to cuddle you was in love with that
Bitch 'til I fucked her i'm a walking bank
It's missiles flying out the whip
Like we drive a tank
Forensics all over the stick
But they can't find a print
Put fifty in that fishbowl
You should've rode with tint
Nigga, that's common sense, easy money

I feel like crime, feel like
Brodie off a thirty, okay
Forty deuce in Wockhardt, I'm James Worthy
Okay
Last nigga played with me, he got murdered
Okay they sent a lot 'cause they
Get paid in a hurry, okay
Trackhawk do a hundred, eight seconds, no way
Ain't got no pussy in four days
We been gettin' more pape'
I don't f*ck with yellow gold
My kit look like rosé
He upped his pole, he ain't
Blow, now he gone, okay

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