How you want it? Now or later, I blow a pound of flavors I'm always rollin kush, don't be with entertainers This ain't just for the look, don't feel like I need favors Don't play it by the book, occupation smokin' papers When I pull up they look, cool with the cops and neighbors I got these niggas shook, like helicopter chases My car win races, my broad was racist But now she wanna kick it, get her little brother tickets I talk, I live it, I ball, I pivot I go the distance, I'm so persistent How I'm livin', stackin' millions Rappin' to children, gettin' that pack in the buildin' That real shit, I'm bringin' the feelin' That bad bitch, she bringin' my meal in My swag good, you think you could steal it That bag good, I think it's a million
Count it up Count the motherfuckin' money man When's the last time you read somethin'? Never, motherfucka! Ha ha ha ha Matter fact, as long as you know how to roll in 2020, you good You gay! Ha ha ha ha ha ha
Who that is Countin' up, keep the weed tucked Got a bottle of that new McQueen stuff Your bitch trippin', tell her ease up You can see the ink when my sleeves up It's hoes down, always g's up Put some money down, Rollie freeze up What would you do if you paid 4. 5? You would live comfortable too, decorate all of your rooms I don't know why they assume, only make boss type of moves They clout chase, I'm hardly amused, but I still try to be cool I spend a thousand on shoes, I got a house with a pool I got a mountain to move, she got a mouth, I recruit If I'm gettin' paper, she count it up too If I know the price, my accountant do too I fly in a place, smoke a pound, and I'm through All my niggas eat full, what happened to you?
Y'all niggas lookin' real sad You look happy, but you look sad All that partyin' and shit and buyin' shit You just fillin' an empty motherfuckin' space Some shit you wish you had It's cool 'cause I know what it feel like 'cause I got it nigga Yeah I got it
Compositor: Cameron Jibril Thomaz ECAD: Obra #28874728