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]