This beat is f**ing crazy
Turn the music up a little bit more
Cool
[Hook]
All these b**hes, they love it
All these n***as, they hate it
They be sick to their stomach, look at the look on their faces
Me and my n***as just ballin', we make something from nothing
We just f**in' the money, she screamin' baby, I'm cumin'
All these n***as, they love it
All these b**hes, they hate it
They be sick to their stomach, look at the look on their faces
Me and my b**hes just ballin', we make something from nothing
I ride this hustle for good, the money never stop comin'
[Chevy Woods]
That new piece hella sick, you probly talk when you pinch
Only had time for that combo for n***as scorin' them bricks
No, I ain't lyin' at all, ask your friends cuz they know it
My n***as empty them clips, then fill ‘em up, that's reloadin'
Got a thing for that money, fast cars and that dough
I was actin' a fool, now sellin' 20's of soap
Like anything for a dollar but I was foolin' myself
You gotta fight for your hustle, what would you do for the belt?
Even them b**hes would shoot, blow a kiss from that pistol
Couple of hot magazines so you can come get your issue
All of them Taylor's will show and all you heard was a whistle
It's really stripes over here, cuz all my n***as official
[Hook]
[Lola Monroe]
Oh sh**, Chevy, they gon make me grind a machete
Whole Clip, ready, b**h ‘bout to go down like confetti
I push harder than pussies giving birth, I say
Now these dry a** b**hes sending first my way
Got the whole city on my shoulder, my driver ain't never been chauffeured
And the motherf**ers tell me when to go, when to stay
What to do, how to play, I'mma chose ‘er
He know opposing arrows, I be exposing your hoes
Like how you f** and you s**, to be exposed to bin those
Until you grind like me I make it in to miss the struggle
Shut the f** up, our lion's in to miss the jungles
I'm closing curtains, so you can throw the towel in
Versace linens, my style been in dowry ten
[Hook]