B-Mane - Goin' in Lyrics

Still stuffing 20s in my Levi's

Get yo ass beat for point five

This just trenches

You got two choices

Go Get money or get high

I wanna be a baller

I Nike my products

Dope just be spoiling my daughter

I'm lit like blunt

I pop like perk

When Off that liq

I go harder

All that cash money was makin us hot

Boy that green dot full of profits

BLVDMONEY that's legal on dockets

Still where I trap is my office

Slang out of apartments with caution

We had to learn from our losses

Shootings and jail gone cost you

We made the payments of bosses

Hundreds and fifty's

Twenty's so often

We in south Rich if I lost you

You smell James when you crossin

Drove through the city

And walk it

Stood in plaza for dollars

Selling this music my blood and the powder

Get in position of power

Trying to get settled and travel

I know the world really ours

Scares on my face came from battles

How you gone climb to the top with no ladder

Mind over matter



This came from a block

Hard to just break off a rock

They just gone bring what they got

I add it to knocks

Stunt with your biggest on top

Perception the key to the plot

They fake what they not

Most want to show what they got

And I don't do talking a lot

No kissing and telling

No threatening with weapons

They know I don't answer detectives

Ima keep doing me that's remaining a G

The attention I ain't really press for

Trying to make in the music

Let the trap go

But I still send a tourist down a back road

Just don't buy that trash

Cause the pack low

Know it's all about that cheddar

Go pack go

Never been to Wisconsin

And I never drove a lambo

Can't just have one Gotta do both

How you going to ball with no B court

They just move 8ths all two four

Bussing down a Newport

Hustle with my bay like too short

Trying to put the hood on

BLVDMONEY

Won't belong before they latch on

Do it for my family

So I gotta bring the cash home

I ain't going in until the pack gone

Stretched three hundred dimes

Out of one zone

I wanted a two point conversion

And not a field goal

I still be busting rhymes in my flip mode

She touchy on that remy

Hit that bar and black my henny

Stumble in she be leaving in her tippy toes