(We love you, Perc)
[Lil Zay]
Rich-ass nigga, count racks in my sleep
You ain't talking 'bout no money, can't do shit for free
So Icy Gang, 1017
Nigga reach for this chain, leave his brain on the street
Yeah, I just left the lot, paper tag
Going two hundred, just hope I don't crash
I can't fuck the bitch if she don't got a bag
These hoes be bougie and broke with no ass
[Lil Zay]
Ayy, I'm dripping sauce down the island
Fresh as fuck, don't even style it
Nigga, let's go
I don't want the pussy, it got mileage
If she ain't sucking dick, then she childish
Ho, you gotta roll
Time to get back to these motherfuckin' 'bows
Vacuum seal it, send that shit out the door
Yeah, I'm rich, nigga, one, two hundred a show
Boy, or you could pay a motherfuckin' dough
I'm in this bitch with Fizzle
From Memphis to Mississippi, we too official
Ayy, PRE, 1017 and these hoes gon' go 'cause they know we them niggas
Pack came in, beat it out, Billy Jean
Count fifty racks in them there skinny jeans
The dope in my cup with ice tea and some lean
Too much ammunition left him dead on the scene
DOA, he dead on arrival
These niggas scared, need to go read the Bible
Just made him thirty, I ain't taking shots
On the way to these racks, you give me 'bout an hour
I'm after that bag, ain't no time for these bitches
She wanna fuck and lay up, I ain't wit' it
That ho bring back some money, give a fuck 'cause you pretty
Bitch, I use to be broke, gave from rags to riches
Let's go
[Lil Zay]
Rich-ass nigga, count racks in my sleep
You ain't talking 'bout no money, can't do shit for free
So Icy Gang, 1017
Nigga reach for this chain, leave his brain on the street
Yeah, I just left the lot, paper tag
Going two hundred, just hope I don't crash
I can't fuck the bitch if she don't got a bag
These hoes be bougie and broke with no ass
Rich-ass nigga, count racks in my sleep
You ain't talking 'bout no money, can't do shit for free
So Icy Gang, 1017
Nigga reach for this chain, leave his brain on the street
Yeah, I just left the lot, paper tag
Going two hundred, just hope I don't crash
I can't fuck the bitch if she don't got a bag
These hoes be bougie and broke with no ass
[TKK Tony]
Ho gettin' BBL, 387 (No, no)
When I fuck, gotta dip, I don't cuff, lil' bitch (Get her out of here)
556 bullets rippin' through bricks (Bah, bah)
See all these niggas, I want my cash on the lake (Ayy, on gang)
Posted on Herb, still trappin' with Hemy (Trappin' with Hemy)
I get my pills for the low like Shimmy (Like Shimmy)
392, hit my gas, there go Hemy (There go Hemy)
We'll get money as long as they print it (Let's go)
Lil' Tony making money, I'll take 'em back (I'll take 'em back)
I hit the scene fresh as fuck with that fire in my underpants (Fire in my underpants)
I spinned a opp in a Pontiac (In a Pontiac)
I don't give a fuck if you owe me or don't know, where my money at?
Trap house jumpin', doing jumping jacks (Doing jumping jacks)
I done sold a hundred bands (A hundred bands)
Niggas been ran through a hundred racks (A hundred racks)
Run through these hoes like a running back (A running back)
But don't get me started, that pistol ain't worth no damn Birkin bag (Yup)
[Lil Zay]
Rich-ass nigga, count racks in my sleep
You ain't talking 'bout no money, can't do shit for free
So Icy Gang, 1017
Nigga reach for this chain, leave his brain on the street
Yeah, I just left the lot, paper tag
Going two hundred, just hope I don't crash
I can't fuck the bitch if she don't got a bag
These hoes be bougie and broke with no ass
Paroles2Chansons dispose d’un accord de licence de paroles de chansons avec la Société des Editeurs et Auteurs de Musique (SEAM)
