Malachi - Money Rulers lyrics

[Hook: Grand Ricky] (X2) Money Rulers up in this b**h GK up in this b**h Ric Flair up in this b**h Malachi up in this b**h Kimo up in this b**h We gettin' faded up in this b**h You in the club and you gettin' money Turn up when you hear this sh** [Verse 1: Kimo] UPFM my n***as If you don't know, get to know Cuz you n***as ain't ready for this sh** Ah just stop it, I'm hot as the f**ing tropics When I roll I rock it, there's a show I stop it You mad cos your album flopping This album gonna be popping You n***as know it's dropping…well, what you mean change the topics? Call it a cruel summer Salty a** n***as cos they did cruel numbers You fraud f**s is Poppoff Call this the college dropout We blew up, you cop out You shop in, we shop out-side of the floor Fit is looking couture Unreleased of course I'm a beast of course f** a piece of course I need at least a course I'mma need a f**ing leash to keep b**h n***as away And at bay…For sure Hah, maybe I should just let the beat ride Marble floors and my feet slide Take yours and I'll keep mine All cake as I eat pie Press play and then rewind Hahahaha Now ain't that f**ing special They say trust in your God man, but ain't that f**ing level k**ing n***as I revel, surprise and you meet the devil White girl, she a right girl Coffee coloured kids, keep the Hoff in all my sh** Cos my b**hes Baywatch, and yes you n***as may watch Oh lord, it's the new gen You need new raps, get a new pen f** Billboard we off the charts Your lungs fill but ain't got the heart Old n***as broke, this the new school. Money Rules [Hook] (X2) [Verse 2: Grand Kaiser] GK, in the club Model b**h, feel her up My chain glows, fill my cup Money Ruler, get it understood Hoes call me over-zealous, you gettin' money don't ever tell us Chocolate b**h, taste like Nutella Smoke so much that Lost gets jealous, boy You better fall back, I'm all that You workin' out, my pockets fat Bill Gates can't compete with that, phony haters get none of that I'm all in, I'm bossin', from Boston Crimes don't get called in, and I ball just like Spalding UPFM, we rule that money Girl come here, why you actin' funny? All these other dudes is straight up dummies Come home with me, I'mma make you my honey f** a b**h, then I kick her out Dollar signs, what we about Punchlines, got a sweet amount Them raps are sick, I bleed 'em out Quittin? f** that, stay winnin' no Pippen, all that Get money all day, on the right track Collab with me, you on the right track Sniffy that molly off a girl tits Yeah, I'm winnin', check the gold on my wrists Girls see me walk in, they cannot resist Real player sh**, I cater this, wa**up You know the sh** I rock so rare Fur in the summer, like a bear You a fruity little b**h, like a pear If you broke and you dissin', that ain't ever fair Real sh** Leather skinnies, jesus piece Black skully, crewneck tee It's simple homie, you ain't livin' GK gettin' bands? That's a given Come at me, we loadin' clips in Real pimp sh**, you straight simpin' This the money love song, play this when you get rich, son