Playboi Carti - Word To Yams lyrics

[Verse 1: J.R Donato] [Hook: Playboi Carti] I ain't worried 'bout no b**h Thumbing through the check Boy, money got me sick (money got me) My Aston got me sick Cash, cash My car go fast, fast n***a Ferrari smash Money bags (ay) Yeah, she all on my dick (my dick) I might just smash, (uh) Pa** her to my clique, then I hit her last I ain't worried bout no b**h, boy I'm off this gas My phone blowing up, I think they need some gas I ain't worried 'bout no b**h, boy I'm off this gas My phone blowing up, I think they need some gas [Verse 2: Playboi Carti] These cops on my a** Dirty kitchen, dirty cash Cash Carti, money bags, yeah Hoe I keep a sack Got a cup filled with of act I'm a real a** n***a 40 clip with the strap Blow a n***a off the map Blowing backwoods in the trap n***as talking down while my n***a spray [Hook: Playboi Carti] I ain't worried 'bout no b**h Thumbing through the check Boy, money got me sick (money got me) My Aston got me sick Cash, cash My car go fast, fast n***a Ferrari smash Money bags (ay) Yeah, she all on my dick (my dick) I might just smash, (uh) Pa** her to my clique, then I hit her last I ain't worried bout no b**h, boy I'm off this gas My phone blowing up, I think they need some gas [Verse 2: Playboi Carti] Should of seen hoe It's all good though Pull down my pants, oh Don't use your hands, woah I heard about you girl You heard about me two You heard i got them bands I heard that mouth a (?) [Hook: Playboi Carti] I ain't worried 'bout no b**h Thumbing through the check Boy, money got me sick (money got me) My Aston got me sick Cash, cash My car go fast, fast n***a Ferrari smash Money bags (ay) Yeah, she all on my dick (my dick) I might just smash, (uh) Pa** her to my clique, then I hit her last I ain't worried bout no b**h, boy I'm off this gas My phone blowing up, I think they need some gas