Aye yo
Money bands in the tummy bag
Fanny pack, but not enough room for both
That's why I got my buddy packed
Funny ass niggas wanna toke
Make them run it back
Do the running man double speed
Hummer fast, cut his ass if he's tryna throw his f*cking hands nigga
See I'm the type to walk in the club with more money than what I came with
I came with my main hoe, nigga you came with a lame bitch
You came with the same gimmick you said you changed but you ain't switch
Lame in your DNA stems, but go ahead, and be great. Shit
Y'all niggas wanna claim rich
Swear to God it don't make sense
Like don't you owe niggas money, man
They said you don't make sense
They said you don't make bands
They called you a fake bitch
They said when they see you, they about to run your pockets like it's 8th grade gym
Niggas always wanna clown my grind like stop that you sound slow
How the f*ck you gon' clown my music with a podcast on the low
Y'all mad that you hot ass and my song tracks sound dope
Y'all mad that my shit flames, and y'all ass don't want smoke
I don't care about nothing else but tryna make this money stack
Past hoes on dummy stuff, it's funny 'cause they want me back
Nah you want this money bag, yo, hoe get off my sack
Bitch you better get yo f*cking money bags from the trap
I don't care about nothing else but tryna make this money stack
Past hoes on dummy stuff, it's funny 'cause they want me back
Nah you want this money bag, yo, hoe get off my sack
Bitch you better get yo f*cking money bags from the trap
They say where the competition at at
Like bitch I don't see no one
I don't fire shots, I seize your guns
I seen the beef you need for funds to eat your lunch
And I see you, can you see me
You seen a star, I see my sons
My semen bust, result, don't ask me for nothing
I wont meet no one unless we talking 'bout motherf*cking green or some
I don't greet you bums
I graze, slide past like grease or some
Her titties out like Greece or some
You have threesomes, I have three and some
You must be shelled to think she'd spit my seed or some
She seen the stick and beat like drums
I whip the automatic like a stick and speed and stuff
You bump my shit until the speaker bust
So suck my meat until I feed you nuts
It's silence till I speak and stuff
It's violence till I cease fire and relieve the drum
Leave a bitch, invite her friend
To see her come and go
These f*cking hoes will eat the sausage penis like it's pizza crusts
You people better never hit my IG DM tryna meet and f*ck
Or I'ma have you freaking sluts exposed
I don't want the buns, I want the f*cking dough
I need bands, you need some love, aye
I need beats, you need a gun, aye
You see ops and freaking run away
I read checks, you read me up, aye
You see threats, I see a chump, aye
You no shooter, you a pump fake
I say now, you say some day
You mad and I don't give a f*ck, aye
I don't care about nothing else but tryna make this money stack
Past hoes on dummy stuff, it's funny 'cause they want me back
Nah you want this money bag, yo, hoe get off my sack
Bitch you better get yo f*cking money bags from the trap
I don't care about nothing else but tryna make this money stack
Past hoes on dummy stuff, it's funny 'cause they want me back
Nah you want this money bag, yo, hoe get off my sack
Bitch you better get yo f*cking money bags from the trap, bitch
Prod. - Moneybaggs Lyrics
Prod. - Moneybaggs Lyrics
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Aye yo
Money bands in the tummy bag
Fanny pack, but not enough room for both
That's why I got my buddy packed
Funny ass niggas wanna toke
Make them run it back
Do the running man double speed
Hummer fast, cut his ass if he's tryna throw his f*cking hands nigga
See I'm the type to walk in the club with more money than what I came with
I came with my main hoe, nigga you came with a lame bitch
You came with the same gimmick you said you changed but you ain't switch
Lame in your DNA stems, but go ahead, and be great. Shit
Y'all niggas wanna claim rich
Swear to God it don't make sense
Like don't you owe niggas money, man
They said you don't make sense
They said you don't make bands
They called you a fake bitch
They said when they see you, they about to run your pockets like it's 8th grade gym
Niggas always wanna clown my grind like stop that you sound slow
How the f*ck you gon' clown my music with a podcast on the low
Y'all mad that you hot ass and my song tracks sound dope
Y'all mad that my shit flames, and y'all ass don't want smoke
I don't care about nothing else but tryna make this money stack
Past hoes on dummy stuff, it's funny 'cause they want me back
Nah you want this money bag, yo, hoe get off my sack
Bitch you better get yo f*cking money bags from the trap
I don't care about nothing else but tryna make this money stack
Past hoes on dummy stuff, it's funny 'cause they want me back
Nah you want this money bag, yo, hoe get off my sack
Bitch you better get yo f*cking money bags from the trap
They say where the competition at at
Like bitch I don't see no one
I don't fire shots, I seize your guns
I seen the beef you need for funds to eat your lunch
And I see you, can you see me
You seen a star, I see my sons
My semen bust, result, don't ask me for nothing
I wont meet no one unless we talking 'bout motherf*cking green or some
I don't greet you bums
I graze, slide past like grease or some
Her titties out like Greece or some
You have threesomes, I have three and some
You must be shelled to think she'd spit my seed or some
She seen the stick and beat like drums
I whip the automatic like a stick and speed and stuff
You bump my shit until the speaker bust
So suck my meat until I feed you nuts
It's silence till I speak and stuff
It's violence till I cease fire and relieve the drum
Leave a bitch, invite her friend
To see her come and go
These f*cking hoes will eat the sausage penis like it's pizza crusts
You people better never hit my IG DM tryna meet and f*ck
Or I'ma have you freaking sluts exposed
I don't want the buns, I want the f*cking dough
I need bands, you need some love, aye
I need beats, you need a gun, aye
You see ops and freaking run away
I read checks, you read me up, aye
You see threats, I see a chump, aye
You no shooter, you a pump fake
I say now, you say some day
You mad and I don't give a f*ck, aye
I don't care about nothing else but tryna make this money stack
Past hoes on dummy stuff, it's funny 'cause they want me back
Nah you want this money bag, yo, hoe get off my sack
Bitch you better get yo f*cking money bags from the trap
I don't care about nothing else but tryna make this money stack
Past hoes on dummy stuff, it's funny 'cause they want me back
Nah you want this money bag, yo, hoe get off my sack
Bitch you better get yo f*cking money bags from the trap, bitch
Money bands in the tummy bag
Fanny pack, but not enough room for both
That's why I got my buddy packed
Funny ass niggas wanna toke
Make them run it back
Do the running man double speed
Hummer fast, cut his ass if he's tryna throw his f*cking hands nigga
See I'm the type to walk in the club with more money than what I came with
I came with my main hoe, nigga you came with a lame bitch
You came with the same gimmick you said you changed but you ain't switch
Lame in your DNA stems, but go ahead, and be great. Shit
Y'all niggas wanna claim rich
Swear to God it don't make sense
Like don't you owe niggas money, man
They said you don't make sense
They said you don't make bands
They called you a fake bitch
They said when they see you, they about to run your pockets like it's 8th grade gym
Niggas always wanna clown my grind like stop that you sound slow
How the f*ck you gon' clown my music with a podcast on the low
Y'all mad that you hot ass and my song tracks sound dope
Y'all mad that my shit flames, and y'all ass don't want smoke
I don't care about nothing else but tryna make this money stack
Past hoes on dummy stuff, it's funny 'cause they want me back
Nah you want this money bag, yo, hoe get off my sack
Bitch you better get yo f*cking money bags from the trap
I don't care about nothing else but tryna make this money stack
Past hoes on dummy stuff, it's funny 'cause they want me back
Nah you want this money bag, yo, hoe get off my sack
Bitch you better get yo f*cking money bags from the trap
They say where the competition at at
Like bitch I don't see no one
I don't fire shots, I seize your guns
I seen the beef you need for funds to eat your lunch
And I see you, can you see me
You seen a star, I see my sons
My semen bust, result, don't ask me for nothing
I wont meet no one unless we talking 'bout motherf*cking green or some
I don't greet you bums
I graze, slide past like grease or some
Her titties out like Greece or some
You have threesomes, I have three and some
You must be shelled to think she'd spit my seed or some
She seen the stick and beat like drums
I whip the automatic like a stick and speed and stuff
You bump my shit until the speaker bust
So suck my meat until I feed you nuts
It's silence till I speak and stuff
It's violence till I cease fire and relieve the drum
Leave a bitch, invite her friend
To see her come and go
These f*cking hoes will eat the sausage penis like it's pizza crusts
You people better never hit my IG DM tryna meet and f*ck
Or I'ma have you freaking sluts exposed
I don't want the buns, I want the f*cking dough
I need bands, you need some love, aye
I need beats, you need a gun, aye
You see ops and freaking run away
I read checks, you read me up, aye
You see threats, I see a chump, aye
You no shooter, you a pump fake
I say now, you say some day
You mad and I don't give a f*ck, aye
I don't care about nothing else but tryna make this money stack
Past hoes on dummy stuff, it's funny 'cause they want me back
Nah you want this money bag, yo, hoe get off my sack
Bitch you better get yo f*cking money bags from the trap
I don't care about nothing else but tryna make this money stack
Past hoes on dummy stuff, it's funny 'cause they want me back
Nah you want this money bag, yo, hoe get off my sack
Bitch you better get yo f*cking money bags from the trap, bitch
Writer: Khari Norman
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid