DJ Drama - Big Money (Remix) lyrics

[Intro: Rich Homie Quan] Talkin' big money, boy it come in thousands Trap house bunkin', Jay runnin' out it Rich Homie baby! [Hook: Rich Homie Quan] Big money, boy it come in thousands Trap house bunkin', Js runnin' out it Twelve saw me comin', double back for me I supply my neighbor, cul-de-sac money (Whatchu talm bout Quan?) Cul-de-sac money Make so much that twelve double back for me All I stack are dead men run it back for me Like a daddy, cul-de-sac money [Verse 1: Rich Homie Quan] Money comin' faster b**hes gettin' thicker Watchin' over my back cause those n***as get quicker Got some bubblegum and hard dick for his sister Cause food stamps is all she get from the system She like (?) but they can't do this sh** for her What your issue? You make Nathan off this comma Blazin' off this ganja while standin' in this circle Slangin' to your momma, watch (?) And that cul-de-sac still fool me That cul-de-sac never sleep In that cul-de-sac we movin' Ain't nothin' get past me And I stop cross, call it short stop You talk small, call it short guap I eat beef like a pork chop What you talkin' bout n***a (?) [Hook: Rich Homie Quan] Big money, boy it come in thousands Trap house bunkin', Js runnin' out it Twelve saw me comin', double back for me I supply my neighbor, cul-de-sac money (Whatchu talm bout Quan?) Cul-de-sac money Make so much that twelve double back for me All I stack are dead men run it back for me Like a daddy, cul-de-sac money [Verse 2: Lil Uzi Vert] My b**h she just be from London She ain't pronouncin' nothin' Yeah we can work on the stove top Turn a little to somethin' Met a little b**h, she let me up Found out it was the 3rd cousin Met a little b**h, she let me up Found out it was the 3rd cousin Now a couple n***as is a f**in' situation Gettin' 40's, 60's change your occupation Got a couple riders with me, Harley Davidson Coulda had three of 'em but turned to eight of 'em Models just (?) zero Tapin' bricks to her stomach just to add a little weight (?) like my head Know in the trap be a man for the bands Call my older brother top uh Grind ran on you with number nine, uh Little brother, he servin' time I just hope he don't lose his mind I ain't the richest but I'm in line Speakin' of lines My girl sniffin' lines Line after line Got product like designs And you catch a dime, got six in the clip [Hook: Rich Homie Quan] Big money, boy it come in thousands Trap house bunkin', Js runnin' out it Twelve saw me comin', double back for me I supply my neighbor, cul-de-sac money (Whatchu talm bout Quan?) Cul-de-sac money Make so much that twelve double back for me All I stack are dead men run it back for me Like a daddy, cul-de-sac money [Verse 3: Skeme] Hold on, designer on (?) A motherf**in' couch This cannon on my leg and you do not want this drama I need that cash, that fetti, that lucci Need my retribution or else we start shootin' Them choppers go off, make your block sound like New Years SOS gang, I do not need new pair, hold up I done put stacks in the holes in my walls If you touch 'em with (?) it's holes in your face PSA for all you f**in' dancers Get off my dick and go get the cake I got my hand on the grain and my foot on the gas I have no use for a break I feel like Michael Corleone with the graves I feel like (?) Better watch what you say bout me Cause I keep gunners around, don't play bout me Checkin' .40's, tryna act like we homies But you barely know me If you don't want the money then boy you ain't around me Ain't nothin' fake about me I forget (?) about me We poppin' tags for the tickets (?) We gon' pop in these mags, let the AK scream [Hook: Rich Homie Quan] Big money, boy it come in thousands Trap house bunkin', Js runnin' out it Twelve saw me comin', double back for me I supply my neighbor, cul-de-sac money (Whatchu talm bout Quan?) Cul-de-sac money Make so much that twelve double back for me All I stack are dead men run it back for me Like a daddy, cul-de-sac money