Lyrics:
Want to tell you a story
About the house-man blues
I come home one Friday
Had to tell the landlady I'da lost my job
She said that don't confront
Fuck your ho in my flip flops
Kickin' this shit, no gym socks
Ask about me nigga, I been hot
It ain't 'bout money? Nigga kick rocks
That's all facts,
sentenced (free french)
On my hooyo yeah I rent it (I rent it)
Ridin' dirty in the ends you'll
Think that I lost it (I lost it)
So much money in the closet
it from the source
But fuck with all the word of mouth
Golden State running practice at my house
Nigga, what am I about?
You gon' really feel it
right to do
Me like that though dog, for real (Yeah)
You, been seeing him, and I know
And I was with her, and you knew about it
But I was too blind
the vault'
And fuck what it costs, money talk, nigga
I'm in all red like my brake lights
In the kitchen on the stove
Tryna get my cake right
I work late
You want war? I take you to war, now that my money long
Why you broke? Cat's buy the by lines and fantasize
The way I'm spittin', put TV's in
Queens
French babe sayin' "I love you baby"
"Buy me Fendi et je reste ton baby"
Every time I step out
Homies hate on my style
Homies ain't on my grind
Same
were gonna rent this cabin
Way up in Montana
We were gonna fish
We had the date all picked
Then my old man got sick and the
Plan kinda disappeared
We'll
VERSE 1:
How come every time I turn the t.v. on, I see my sisters?
Shakin' they ass' for money.
Maybe it's 'cause all my girls in strip clubs, make
When you see my smilin', I'm really frownin'
You think you're really wildin'? I'm killa clownin'
Meaning I don't give a fuck about nothing you say
I'm sorry)
All I can do to get over you, catch and release
Keep sayin' that I'm fine, but the pain is my mind (uh)
I can get the money back, but
it
Product of a violent environment, saw niggas go get money I had to go try it
My grandma's a crying, her grandson a liar, like all of this shit
this money by my lonely, uh aye
I'on give a fuck about the hate, don't give a fuck about the hate, uh aye
Everybody on my plate, everybody on my face,
one up on me
I go by God Tiller, you better run from me
Give hope to my niggas, them niggas love money
Adios to them bitches, can't get a hug from me
One]
She's all about that get rich
Treat a nigga like the lotto, he's a quick pick
... it's nothin to a boss bitch
What happened to his cash flow? He
and Dessaline put an end to all of that
I resisted French rule like Samore Ture
Expanded my lands by fighting Spain
Royal blood and an educated brain
Cuz
let's see
That dress I bought for you oversea
Funny few years ago
We was dreaming about how some day we'll be living this life
Up at 10, get dressed by
raised by the old ones (ooh)
And when they see me they be like "what you know huh?
Don't forget all your family and where you came from
Money change,
all about
Let me be the first to know
But it seems
You just don't give a damn about my dreams
You don't have to be that way
You don't care
You don't
Shorty walkin'
Make your eyes jump out the sockets
She got money out of all my pockets!
Wiggle then move (wiggle then move)
Wiggle then move (wiggle
of the gun
Since 2018, all I did was run (run)
Shane made the art look so unruly
Groovy, I know, that your girl will choose me
Girl you ain't French why you
like a butter face, butter body, butter toes
I put Can't Believe It on my early morning butter toast
Y'all cannot believe I'm not a fiend and that it
funky with the heartbeat props, y'all
(Heartbeat props!)
It's time to get busy with the heartbeat props
(We're giving heartbeat props)
I give my man
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