*Let the band play*
Yeah, I'm runnin' to the money
You know how I'm comin'
Monday 'till Sunday and I be thumbin', thumbin', thumbin'
Got this bad bitch wit a onion and she got her own money
She say money keep her cummin', but I keep them commas comin'
Yeah, yah, another check again
I be killin' shit, lord forgive me for my sins
And my wrist cost a 'Rari and my earings cost a Benz
And my bitch is a barbie, my name Key not Ken
When I fired up my blunt, they like "who's folk broke the wind?"
Double up my cup, I sip lean, not Gin
I be high as fuck, it feel like my head spinnin'
But no, I ain't spendin'
No time wit these bitches
Hell nah, give me head, keep your draws, yeah yeah
Big dawg, I don't know 'bout y'all, yeah yeah
Bling blau, jewelry came niagra falls, yeah yeah
Stack it tall, money in the floor and wall, ah ah yah
1 to the 2 to the 3 into the 4
Big Glock is all about his motherfuckin' dough
Ready to make a entrance 'round my backend, bruh
Because you know I'm 'bout to turn shit up
I told her throw that ass back so I can bust it like a bubble
South Memphis nigga in this bitch, yeah you know you in trouble
Ain't nuthin but a P thang, baby
Young iced out nigga going crazy
Paper Route is the label that pays me
Unplayable so please don't try to play me
Know what I'm sayin, ah
Yeah bitch I'm the man
Before you talk raise up your hand, yah
I been runnin' it up, these niggas just been runnin' errands, ah
How you screamin', crippin', bloodin', (?)
Hold up, dawg, player, you is a man, you need a scram
You know how I get down, money talks, you hear me loud
Yeah I know you hear me loud, I been countin' like
1 to the 2 to the 3 into the 4
Big Glock is all about his motherfuckin' dough
Ready to make a entrance 'round my backend, bruh
Because you know I'm 'bout to turn shit up
Yeah, turn in up, ah
Bitch I'm the shit
Givin' niggas bubble guts, yeah
Every whip in my crib cost 200+
Except my yellow short bus, that's my Rolce Roys truck, yeah
I be going nuts, nigga, I be going dumb (dummy)
Dummer, thumbin' through the numbers
Run up, run up if you wanna
Choppa stick on me, bitch I hit you like katana
Young niggas wit me, they'll eat you like Pirana
I wonder why these niggas be hatin', yah
Lord knows I really got balls, shootin' like the navy
Big loud (?) wakin' up my neighbors
They like "Where you going Glock"
I'm going to get some paper, yeah
1 to the 2 to the 3 into the 4
Big Glock is all about his motherfuckin' dough
Ready to make a entrance 'round my backend, bruh
Because you know I'm 'bout to turn shit up
1 to the 2 to the 3 into the 4
1 to the 2 to the 3 into the 4
1 to the 2 to the 3 into the 4
Big Glock is all about his motherfuckin' dough
Paroles2Chansons dispose d’un accord de licence de paroles de chansons avec la Société des Editeurs et Auteurs de Musique (SEAM)
