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Internet Money - On Me Lyrics



Internet Money - On Me Lyrics
Official




[ Featuring Destroy Lonely ]

(Perfect)
Don't ask how much I made, it's on me (bitch, it's on me, oh yeah, oh yeah)
Don't ask how much I made, it's (I keep it on me, oh yeah, oh yeah, oh yeah, oh yeah)
Don't ask how much I made, it's on me (bitch, it's on me, oh yeah, oh yeah, oh yeah)
Don't ask how much I made, it's (oh yeah, oh yeah)

This shit took a long time, had to stay down
My boy outside with that stick with a hundred round on it
Pop out, don't make a sound, yeah
Pick a dead opp out the ground, yeah
And my bitch got a real deal ass on her
Told them f*ck boys I don't play like Sony
Put a f*ck nigga on a plate 'cause I'm hungry
Don't ask how much I made, it's on me

Yeah, yeah, don't ask how much I made, it's on me (let's go)
These niggas so damn fake and phony
Damn, I'm with your bae, she on me
On the top floor, chilling with Lonely
Bitch, I get on and put on all my homies
Bought designer shit for a check, put it on me
If you think I would switch for a check, you don't know me

This shit took a long time, had to stay down
My boy outside with that stick with a hundred round on it
Pop out, don't make a sound, yeah
Pick a dead opp out the ground, yeah
And my bitch got a real deal ass on her
Told them f*ck boys I don't play like Sony
Put a f*ck nigga on a plate 'cause I'm hungry
Don't ask how much I made, it's on me

If you think I would switch for a bitch, you don't know me
I was raised to move smart and be quick 'cause they on me
I be out, I'm not hidin', lil' bitch, but they know me
She seen I was 'bout that check and she put it on me
Woah, these niggas, they not my homies
I was broke and f*cked up, they act like they ain't know me
And your ho, she see that my wrist is real frozen
When she pull up, I leave her mouth open

This shit took a long time, had to stay down
My boy outside with that stick with a hundred round on it
Pop out, don't make a sound, yeah
Pick a dead opp out the ground, yeah
And my bitch got a real deal ass on her
Told them f*ck boys I don't play like Sony
Put a f*ck nigga on a plate 'cause I'm hungry
Don't ask how much I made, it's on me (let's go)

Don't ask how much I made, it's on me (bitch, it's on me)
Don't ask how much I made, it's (I keep it on me)
Don't ask how much I made, it's on me (bitch, it's on me)
Don't ask how much I made, it's (let's go)
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

[ Correct these Lyrics ]

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(Perfect)
Don't ask how much I made, it's on me (bitch, it's on me, oh yeah, oh yeah)
Don't ask how much I made, it's (I keep it on me, oh yeah, oh yeah, oh yeah, oh yeah)
Don't ask how much I made, it's on me (bitch, it's on me, oh yeah, oh yeah, oh yeah)
Don't ask how much I made, it's (oh yeah, oh yeah)

This shit took a long time, had to stay down
My boy outside with that stick with a hundred round on it
Pop out, don't make a sound, yeah
Pick a dead opp out the ground, yeah
And my bitch got a real deal ass on her
Told them f*ck boys I don't play like Sony
Put a f*ck nigga on a plate 'cause I'm hungry
Don't ask how much I made, it's on me

Yeah, yeah, don't ask how much I made, it's on me (let's go)
These niggas so damn fake and phony
Damn, I'm with your bae, she on me
On the top floor, chilling with Lonely
Bitch, I get on and put on all my homies
Bought designer shit for a check, put it on me
If you think I would switch for a check, you don't know me

This shit took a long time, had to stay down
My boy outside with that stick with a hundred round on it
Pop out, don't make a sound, yeah
Pick a dead opp out the ground, yeah
And my bitch got a real deal ass on her
Told them f*ck boys I don't play like Sony
Put a f*ck nigga on a plate 'cause I'm hungry
Don't ask how much I made, it's on me

If you think I would switch for a bitch, you don't know me
I was raised to move smart and be quick 'cause they on me
I be out, I'm not hidin', lil' bitch, but they know me
She seen I was 'bout that check and she put it on me
Woah, these niggas, they not my homies
I was broke and f*cked up, they act like they ain't know me
And your ho, she see that my wrist is real frozen
When she pull up, I leave her mouth open

This shit took a long time, had to stay down
My boy outside with that stick with a hundred round on it
Pop out, don't make a sound, yeah
Pick a dead opp out the ground, yeah
And my bitch got a real deal ass on her
Told them f*ck boys I don't play like Sony
Put a f*ck nigga on a plate 'cause I'm hungry
Don't ask how much I made, it's on me (let's go)

Don't ask how much I made, it's on me (bitch, it's on me)
Don't ask how much I made, it's (I keep it on me)
Don't ask how much I made, it's on me (bitch, it's on me)
Don't ask how much I made, it's (let's go)
[ Correct these Lyrics ]
Writer: Bobby Sandimanie III, Cody Rounds, Danny Lee Snodgrass, Jr., Jonah Childs
Copyright: Lyrics © TUNECORE INC, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.




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