XXL Freshmen - Treadmill lyrics

[Intro] Yea Rich Homie Quan n***a I bet right now, you probably wonder what the f** this is Rich Homie Workout music Know what I'm talking about? [Verse 1] I'm in the Benz first like I'm ‘posed to Don't approach me n***a I don't know you, a Pull up on them in the 442 And gotta 35 rack and it old school Got a fetish for the cars and the paper And I gotta fetish for the broad but I don't chase her I love how I was broke [?] Worth about 2 mill on the come up you can rate them Money over b**hes even though I love ladies If a n***a want a verse then a n***a gotta pay me I came from nothing n***a now I'm in a hardwood floor by the lake (East Atlanta) I remember not smoking now a n***a hitting wax outta vapors (All that weed) It don't matter how much money I got if you owe me n***a better pay up Top down in a Z28 now my car look like a spaceship Hell no I don't like these b**hes, can't wife these b**hes ain't made up And I don't want ice cream till I get my cake up That b**h n***a sh** don't phase her Turn this motherf**er up so loud I wake my neighbors Get on my line n***a I'm like a line n***a Like a razor, no Motorola, getting faded I'm in Oklahoma and I'm tasting That paper I need a towel because I'm tired as hell on that [Hook] Treadmills I'm runnin' to it Treadmills I'm runnin' to it Treadmills I'm runnin' to it On that treadmill I'm running to that paper You get tired as hell when you running for that paper I need a towel homie I'm swimming from it Treadmill I been running Treadmill I been running Treadmill I been running Treadmill I been running I been running for that paper I'm tired of that [Verse 2] We back in so we slippin ‘out Got a 20 homie and my pistol co*ked Put 30K on this simple wave Big booty b**h with them dimples babe Gotta Motel 6 I'm pimping that And a penthouse suite I don't live in that Got the same white [?] on the Diddy got Can't love these b**hes thats what this about Can't trust these n***as gotta switch it up I'm in public walking with a [?] cup I got forklift bullets that will lift you up Middle finger motherf**er I don't give a f** I run into that paper all day I run into that paper all day I'm gone sniff and scratch my money long ways I'll be re-up it won't take me all day Run up on me n***a attack and k** For that money n***a I go track and field Like an action figure boy you know you fake as f** You taking picture the likes of these b**hes Who the f** you take me for? All these homies who want money I swear I can't make this up I like my money faces up Working out I been shaping up on them [Hook]