[Flight]
Too much money in my pockets, I just broke the scale
He askin' 'bout his bitch but I don't kiss and tell
It don't cost a dollar just for you to fuckin' keep it real
She ain't go to college but her head said she went to Yale
What you bringin' to the table other than the bare minimum?
Shawty come with baggage, I'm talkin' about ten of them
Ja Morant, it's me how I'm ballin' just in general
Main account, inside account, both lookin' identicals
Walkin' out the jeweler like Serena with this tennis chain
Diamonds bustin' out the meter, this is not a game
Fifty-K bust down, this is not the same
Real VVS's dancin', keep you entertained
Ballin' like New Orleans but this bitch ain't a Saint
I'm competin' with the bank on another rank
My neck like a yacht and they finna walk the plank
I'm competin' with the bank on another rank
Check the stats, I'm up, bitch, ninety-nine overall
Designer stores callin' tryna sign me, I'ma ball
Wake up, make money, no employee, I'm the boss
I just turned my safe into a bank inside my walls
A couple cribs, a couple cars like it's four of me
What's so hard? You think that I don't go to sleep
Just to keep the spots you treat my mansion like a sneaky link
And told my sneaky link look at the double tree
I'm on my shit, please, you ain't doin' it right
Three wives, Mexican, Asian and the other one white
Two-tone AP, one rose and the other one white
I'm in the field with this shit like my name was Ray Rice, uh
Never been a benchwarmer
I could never see some flaw shit and act normal
I pop my shit like some grease on the stove, I can't be humbled
Like a box match I beat it up, girl, let's rumble
Yeah, ayy
[Sada Baby]
I had to go and grab my water, huh
I been dealin' with too much shit that's subpar, huh, huh
Bitch can't shake no ass 'til your butt bars
You know I uppercut the nigga, make his forehead touch Mars
Chopper spit the numbers like I cut cars
You know I, huh, play around with your hundreds but don't touch ours
You know I, huh, play round with your money but don't touch mine
I hit your momma from the front and make her butt shine
And told them hoes it's goin' down like upside
Haha, Debo the trappin', cut the lunch line
Uh-huh, whip cook a whole brick, I do my one-two
Huh, the sweet was on the way when AP we was up too
Huh, first thing I like to say to opps is, "Fuck you"
I won't hesitate to teach you niggas like a substitute
Beat it, spinned a nigga block, hop out in monkey suit
Nah, I'll shoot Bishop in this top, I got a punch of juice, hahaha
Paroles2Chansons dispose d’un accord de licence de paroles de chansons avec la Société des Editeurs et Auteurs de Musique (SEAM)
