Back to Top

Money Man - Epidemic Album Lyrics



Money Man - Epidemic Lyrics






24

(Yo, Nflated, spice that bitch up)

Burnin' on Lilikoi, ashes look corduroy
R.i.p. Kobe Bryant, R.I.p. 24
I can make a cool 50K in less than twenty-four hours
Ridin' with the pack through the Tennessee mountains
Vpn, SOCKS, and at least three routers
I'm thumbin' through it, I don't need no counter
Had to resuscitate a bitch, my neck almost drowned her
I got oil, I got hemp, I wax, I got flower
Burnin' on pre-roll, finna go to Pluto
Drippin' real hard when I'm hoppin' out two-door
I just met a psychedelic plug named Hugo
Thirty laptops in my motherf*ckin' condo
White collar got a nigga ballin' like Lonzo
These niggas overrated like Joe Flacco
Feelin' like Jim Jones, nigga, I'm a capo
I'ma flip the road route, feelin' like Pop Smoke

Banana cream cake in my motherf*ckin' headwrap
If I don't like the smell, then the pack get sent back
If I don't like his energy, I push a nigga shit back
Megan had us all listenin' to Bagg, big facts
Megan has us all listenin' to stream, big facts
All that slick talkin' finna get a nigga kidnapped
Just in, gotta FN, finna go and liftoff
I'ma empty out the magazine when I'm pissed off
I'm on that Wedding Pie, it got me geeked
My bitch hit it twice and then she went to sleep
I drop bud on the clock with the perfect technique
I'ma hit it from the rear, I wan' grab her obliques
I ain't got time in the day for my females be mad at me
Internet racks, I'ma run it up rapidly
She know I'm vicious, I'm f*ckin' her savagely
She know I get racks, she know my mentality

Grew up in the trap watching Kobe yam on a nigga
Pull up in the Porsche, yeah, the Pan' on a nigga, yeah
Pull in a dodge, yeah, the Ram on a nigga
Anybody try, yeah, I'ma blam on niggas
I'm the bad guy, fifty different grid lines
Turn a lacefront to a fire, fire hairline
I was over drippin', I should start my own clothing line
Got two jits, dawg, I'll die for both of mine
I ain't never satisfied 'til my money increase
F*cked up the profile, too many inquiries
They be low-key hatin', I can hear 'em whispering
All these baguette chains, you can see 'em glimmering
Had to make a U-turn, I just seen a roadblock
I ain't playin' no games, I ain't sparin no opps
It's a full moon now, so I'm burnin' Moon Rock
Livin' off schemes, why is he on tip top?

Burnin' on Lilikoi, ashes look corduroy
R.i.p. Kobe Bryant, R.I.p. 24
I can make a cool 50K in less than twenty-four hours
Ridin' with the pack through the Tennessee mountains
Vpn, SOCKS, and at least three routers
I'm thumbin' through it, I don't need no counter
Had to resuscitate a bitch, my neck almost drowned her
I got oil, I got hemp, I wax, I got flower
Burnin' on pre-roll, finna go to Pluto
Drippin' real hard when I'm hoppin' out two-door
I just met a psychedelic plug named Hugo
Thirty laptops in my motherf*ckin' condo
White collar got a nigga ballin' like Lonzo
These niggas overrated like Joe Flacco
Feelin' like Jim Jones, nigga, I'm a capo
I'ma flip the road route, feelin' like Pop Smoke
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Tysen Jay Bolding
Copyright: Lyrics © TuneCore Inc., Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Warner Chappell Music, Inc., EMPIRE PUBLISHING






Quick To Judge

Niggas quick to judge and they don't know what I done been through
Have my nigga come through and erase you like a pencil
My bitch super bad, she got a Birkin and Shih Tzu
Balenci's now, but use to do Giuseppe with the Christian
Walking out of Tiffany's with Tiffany and Crystal
My chick, she got that drip, she look like she just left the runway
Pull up in that Bentley truck and scoop her like a sundae
On Gelato 41, you know it's in a hemp wrap
Come and take yo' little sack, you know that we won't give it back
Versace, Dior, Dolce, boy, you know my outfit mismatch
First time I hit Cali' I had found a plug on WeedMaps
I just want relations bae, I ain't tryna offend you
I ain't tryna be your partner, I ain't tryna friend you
Call up all my opps and told 'em, "It ain't shit to end you"
Heard yo past was broken, yeah, I heard you kinda fragile

She ask me did I swipe, I said a nigga might dabble
ATM's in different states, a nigga might travel
High rise in the city, so you know I'm living rent free
I can't be a ho, I'll never let a nigga pimp me
I ain't wanna hurt her, so I turned her down gently
She say that she's a savage, so I went and bought her Fendi
She not with the police, but she wanna come and frisk me
When you tryna run it up, you gotta be consistent
It's an epidemic, I'm a nation wide enigma
Gotta get them racks at all costs, I got follow through
I want commas, if you ain't about it I won't talk to you
Make them digits go up niggas thought it wasn't possible
Pull up in that 'Vette with the horses and now I'm dusting you
All they do is fibulate, so how can I put trust in you?
I don't think you understand bae, how much I lust for you
I been the gym lifting weights, I might come muscle you

Niggas quick to judge and they don't know what I done been through
Have my nigga come through and erase you like a pencil
My bitch super bad, she got a Birkin and Shih Tzu
Balenci's now, but use to do Giuseppe with the Christian
Walking out of Tiffany's with Tiffany and Crystal
My chick, she got that drip, she look like she just left the runway
Pull up in that Bentley truck and scoop her like a sundae
On Gelato 41, you know it's in a hemp wrap
Come and take yo' little sack, you know that we won't give it back
Versace, Dior, Dolce, boy, you know my outfit mismatch
First time I hit Cali' I had found a plug on WeedMaps
I just want relations bae, I ain't tryna offend you
I ain't tryna be your partner, I ain't tryna friend you
Call up all my opps and told 'em, "It ain't shit to end you"
Heard yo past was broken, yeah, I heard you kinda fragile
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Tysen Jay Bolding
Copyright: Lyrics © Songtrust Ave






Know Ya Type

I can't f*ck with you, I know your type, I know you slime
Yeah, I'm ridin' with the gang wrong or right, yeah, every time
We gon' take these bags to different states, who volunteerin' to drive?
This shit for the brave-hearted, if you scary, you can't ride
Broke nigga ain't got no gas money tryin' to bum a ride
Swipin' with some shades and some fake dreads, I improvise
They don't wanna see me win, they sit back and criticize
This is real ZaZa, with the bags, I charge 'em thirty five

Pussy nigga don't know the strains, I'ma tax him every time
He don't bust the seal no more, he know equality every time
She can't wait for me to get home, we f*ck for hours every time
If it's smoke, you know it's up there, I ain't tryna reconcile
I ain't tryna go back to poverty, I ain't tryna relate to you
I ain't got no time to kick it, I got better shit to do
I ain't' trippin' on no bitch, I got kids who gotta eat
And Versace on my feet, Chain Reaction, black and white
I be swipin' day and night, I be servin' day and night
Trap shit in my DNA, I can't help but catch a play
Trap shit in my DNA, I can't help but serve a J
I buy nothin' but fast cars to make sure I get away
Nigga takin' up space in the trap, I swear they in the way
I keep nothin' byt shooters with me, I should join the NBA
Catchin' plays in Dior B22's, that orange and gray
I got band-aids on my mind, so I'm worrying everyday, hey

I can't f*ck with you, I know your type, I know you slime
Yeah, I'm ridin' with the gang wrong or right, yeah, every time
We gon' take these bags to different states, who volunteerin' to drive?
This shit for the brave-hearted, if you scary, you can't ride
Broke nigga ain't got no gas money tryin' to bum a ride
Swipin' with some shades and some fake dreads, I improvise
They don't wanna see me win, they sit back and criticize
This is real ZaZa, with the bags, I charge 'em thirty five
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Tysen Jay Boulding
Copyright: Lyrics © Songtrust Ave






Its Yo World

(Rocktee 'bout to run it up)
(Ben, show 'em how it's done)

Let's go, let's go girl, drop it to the floor girl
Yeah, it's your world, do what you wanna do
Do what you wanna do
Do what you wanna do
Let's go, let's go girl, drop it to the floor girl
Yeah, it's your world do what you wanna do
Do what you wanna do
Do what you wanna do

Let's go, let's go
She said, "It's my party, I can simp if I want to
I can smoke if I want to, I can f*ck If I want to"
Got me pushin' up on you, it's your 'Gram, let me follow
She got drip like a model, she gon' have a hangover when she wake up tomorrow
I'm like, "Let's go, let's go girl, 'cause you know it's your world"
Drop it to the floor, girl drop that ass some more, girl
Yeah, she wet like Sea World, get you wet just like a lifeguard
She don't care about tomorrow, she just wanna feel it right now
I got Gelonade and I got Wedding Pie on me right now (yeah, yeah)
She like, "Can I f*ck with you? I like your vibe" (yeah, yeah)
It's a Model S Tesla parked outside, yeah

Let's go, let's go girl, drop it to the floor girl
Yeah, it's your world, do what you wanna do
Do what you wanna do
Do what you wanna do
Let's go, let's go girl, drop it to the floor girl
Yeah, it's your world do what you wanna do
Do what you wanna do
Do what you wanna do
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Tysen Jay Bolding
Copyright: Lyrics © THE ADMINISTRATION MP INC






Another Lifetime

She said, "I wish you was straight and narrow"
I said, "Maybe in another lifetime"
I took gambles, I took risks, I hit some licks
Sometimes I wasn't in my right mind
We both got some issues, but we had to make it work
The plug taxed me for that batch, I still made it work
Whoever did me dirty in the past, I'ma make 'em hurt
Why they had to take my dawg? I swear it really hurt

That shit piss me off every time I think about it
I need plenty racks and there ain't no way around it
Bend it over, bae, I'm just tryin' come and pound it
Just to get right here, I really had to muscle mountains
You know I'm locked in, moving these bags coast to coast
It be the small lies that probably hurt a nigga the most
I can't f*ck with you like that 'cause you be doing the most
I seen lil' man yesterday and the nigga seen a ghost
Sometimes life be getting to me, I gotta sit and smoke
This shit I'm spreading like a sickness, there ain't no antidote
For the Circle, that's off top, I be splitting cantaloupe
For the Circle, that's automatic, yeah, he gotta go
Hop out my bed and kiss my girl, bae, I gotta go
Got an overload of ZaZa, this shit gotta go
We got different kinds of sticks, these niggas better know
Had to switch my drip, I had to find a better flow
You supposed to move in silence, what is all that talkin' for
I'd rather chase some money than be out here chasin' hoes
I'd rather hustle than be sitting around here cryin' and broke
I'ma be servin', ain't no sitting around just poutin' and broke

She said, "I wish you was straight and narrow"
I said, "Maybe in another lifetime"
I took gambles, I took risks, I hit some licks
Sometimes I wasn't in my right mind
We both got some issues, but we had to make it work
The plug taxed me for that batch, I still made it work
Whoever did me dirty in the past, I'ma make 'em hurt
Why they had to take my dawg? I swear it really hurt
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Tysen Jay Bolding
Copyright: Lyrics © Songtrust Ave






Courtesy

These red bottom boots bae, these ain't Timbs
On a DMT drug and I'm selling weed pens
Only real in the Circle, I don't f*ck with fake friends
On this high grade flower, so I'm going up to Mercury (Yo Nflated, spice that bitch up)
Gave her CareCredit 'cause she said she wanted surgery
I'ma get the pack there goin' with some urgency
All my diamonds flashing like an ambulance emergency
Vacuum seal it for you, I'ma show a little courtesy
I just left France, I got overseas currency
All my exes love me, they regret that we broke up
Two Latina bitches with me getting coked up
Plug got a nigga waitin', damn, what's the hold up?
When the shit done drying, I'ma buy the whole yield
They know I'm growing indoor, you can tell from the light bill

I'ma start a pandemic just like Chinese
Countin' up while watching Netflix, Stranger Things
Niggas ain't ballin', they can never ever make the team
Nigga, this is exotic weed, I don't do the nicotine
Pretty bitch ridin' with me, she got high self-esteem
Presidential Rollie, nigga, bustdown Jubilee
Bought a Trackhawk just to get from point A to B
Even when I was a child, niggas couldn't play with me

Told my old lady nigga touch her, I'ma kill his ass
Got a blue check, I ain't talkin' bout Instagram
Had to buy a Euro cut suit, I'ma businessman
I ain't got time for the gossip, I'ma busy man
I don't do the Gucci, nigga, I don't do the Dapper Dan
I'm the type to mail a bag of loud to my biggest fan
I can't let shit slide, I can't be the bigger man
I ain't talkin' college, but my shoes cost a couple bands
D&G on, lil' six-hundred on my belt
Don't need no shooters, I'll shoot 'em myself
Don't need to weapons, I'll serve 'em myself
I want that green like a motherf*ckin' Celtic
All my shit fire, when I touch it, it's melted
I wanna touch on you bae, I swear that I can't help it (c'mon)
They don't want war 'cause them niggas gone lose
Told my lil' chick lose the damn attitude
I'm not afraid to get rid of you
Play with the gang, bullets riddle you
I am not normal, not typical
My African scammers Somalian
Got ZaZa smoke all in my oxygen

I'ma start a pandemic just like Chinese
Countin' up while watching Netflix, Stranger Things
Niggas ain't ballin', they can never ever make the team
Nigga, this is exotic weed, I don't do the nicotine
Pretty bitch ridin' with me, she got high self-esteem
Presidential Rollie, nigga, bustdown Jubilee
Bought a Trackhawk just to get from point A to B
Even when I was a child, niggas couldn't play with me
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Tysen Jay Bolding
Copyright: Lyrics © TUNECORE INC, TuneCore Inc., Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.






No Talking

(Ayy, where you get that beat from? Mooktoven)

Ooh, them labels be callin' I don't do no talkin'
The car is a foreign, I don't do no walkin'
I f*cked her for hours, endurance, been joggin'
Ooh, I can eyeball the P, I do not need a clock it
The jeweler gon' bust down my chain and my watches
She scream when I hit her, she soundin' obnoxious (Yung Lan on the track)
Ooh, I love when she throw that shit back on me
You smell me, you know that pack on me
Let's go, you know that them racks on me
These niggas sweet like a cavity
Sticked up, you know we ain't havin' it, ooh
I got top shelf in the cabinet, ooh
Come on, you know that them blues on me
Ran that shit up on my lonely

Most of these niggas untrustworthy
I grow grizzly just like a Morant jersey
Had to cut that lil' ho off, yeah, cold turkey
Got the water hose on me, I start squirtin'
We don't separate, might catch the wrong person
I don't ride no waves, I am my own person
I don't take no days off, I just keep workin'
Had to jump in the water, I keep surfing
At the Louis store shoppin', I spent ten
Then I walked out the mall to a new Benz
She just came to the crib and brought two friends
Used to have a trap house on a dead end
Say my name in a song, they some dead men
Got them racks to the ceiling like 6'10
Pull up inside a foreign, bae, get in
I'm burnin' exotic while whippin' (yeah, come on)
Droppin' weight on the bench like I'm liftin', yeah
Red bottoms on me, no Christian (come on)
I just want you and your best friend
Bae, I won't be like the X-Men
Rather go now like your ex-man

Ooh, them labels be callin' I don't do no talkin'
The car is a foreign, I don't do no walkin'
I f*cked her for hours, endurance, been joggin'
Ooh, I can eyeball the P, I do not need a clock it
The jeweler gon' bust down my chain and my watches
She scream when I hit her, she soundin' obnoxious
Ooh, I love when she throw that shit back on me
You smell me, you know that pack on me
Let's go, you know that them racks on me
These niggas sweet like a cavity
Sticked up, you know we ain't havin' it, ooh
I got top shelf in the cabinet, ooh
Come on, you know that them blues on me
Ran that shit up on my lonely
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Milan Modi, Tarik Davis, Tysen Bolding
Copyright: Lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.






We Not Lazy

Yeah, yeah
This shit we doing ginormous (yeah)
My bitch she pretty and gorgeous (yeah)
She tryna come join the circle (yeah)
My buds be purple and orange (yeah)
No we not lazy we working (yeah)
Used to walk now we in Porsche's (yeah)
I got Gelato and Sherbert (yeah)
I ran that check up on purpose (yeah)
Yeah, yeah
I got pink Runtz and Hawaiian (yeah)
Keep me a strap like I'm dyking (yeah)
All of my VV's be blinding (yeah)
Keep me a script like a doctor (yeah)
On Sunday I'm burnin' Peach Cobbler (yeah)
Vegan, I ate a falafe (yeah)
Ice on my neck and my goggles (yeah)

I'm on this hybrid, a cross-strain
I just bet 50K on a Hawks game
I just serve 'em P's, I do not ask names
My bitch bad as f*ck, no, she will not change
I keep hundreds on me, I don't keep change
Got a hundred outdoors in my domain
Got a two-piece, they bad, in my domain
I get money, lil' bae, I don't complain
I got big bank, but no, I'm not Duct Tape
I got THC all in this cupcake
I get bags off, you know I had to dump weight
Got fam some in New York somewhere upstate
Me and these niggas wasn't raised the same
Got my own wave, I'ma change the game
White collar jugg, had to change it up
Land Rover, nigga, had to Range it up
When we ride by, hoes wave at us
Even Lil' Tom don't play with us
Made a strategy and got rich as f*ck
First I was thinkin' 'bout givin' up
Then I had to kids, I had to run it up (yeah, yeah)
I'm in a Maybach inside her (yeah)
Let the strap bang like it's Kony (yeah)
I'ma take off like a rocket ship
I got that guap, I got bandanas
You hit my blunt with no antennas
I'm in the trap with some gang members
I split that check with them same members
Bullets hit you, you get dismembered
With this one Glock, I shoot six niggas
And my new whip, it cost six figures

Yeah, yeah
This shit we doing ginormous (yeah)
My bitch she pretty and gorgeous (yeah)
She tryna come join the circle (yeah)
My buds be purple and orange (yeah)
No we not lazy we working (yeah)
Used to walk now we in Porsche's (yeah)
I got Gelato and Sherbert (yeah)
I ran that check up on purpose (yeah)
Yeah, yeah
I got pink Runtz and Hawaiian (yeah)
Keep me a strap like I'm dyking (yeah)
All of my VV's be blinding (yeah)
Keep me a script like a doctor (yeah)
On Sunday I'm burnin' Peach Cobbler (yeah)
Vegan, I ate a falafe (yeah)
Ice on my neck and my goggles (yeah)
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Tysen Jay Bolding
Copyright: Lyrics © Songtrust Ave






Back to: Money Man

Tags:
No tags yet