oh my goodness
I got racks up in my pocket, racks up in my pocket
I got thots all in my phone calling me, bitch stop it
Fourteen hundred for this belt, this ain’t no damn Versace
Foe nem just got them racks, got them sacks, them stacks
Them rolls, them hoes, them clothes
Glo Gang, know how we rocking like cut off stocking keep kush in our pockets
I got racks up in my pocket, racks up in my pocket
I got thots all in my phone calling me, bitch stop it
Fourteen hundred for this belt, this ain’t no damn Versace
And I’m smoking on this dope, my hobby getting money
I count money like a pro, you know that I done done it
Twenties, fifties, hundreds, bitch I’m stunting
Fifties, hundreds, twenties, oh my goodness
I need my money machine to count this lil' shit for me
I be flexin' on niggas, just coolin'
I got my niggas, my money, my toolie
I got my cars, my house and my jewelry
Yes, flexin' on niggas, I ain't worried
Smoking Tooka to the head
Come through shoot ya then you’re dead
I’m getting money fuck the feds
And I’m Glo Gang, what is this?
That’s my shit, you lil' bitch
Let’s get rich you lil' bitch
Get off my dick you lil' bitch
And go get you a brick
Smoking TuTu that’s my oxygen
So much damn TuTu where my car keys man?
Counting rolls like a boxer man
Ya know that I’m the man (ya know it)
I got racks up in my pocket, racks up in my pocket
I got thots all in my phone calling me, bitch stop it
Fourteen hundred for this belt, this ain’t no damn Versace
And I’m smoking on this dope, my hobby getting money
I count money like a pro, you know that I done done it
Twenties, fifties, hundreds, bitch I’m stunting
Fifties, hundreds, twenties, oh my goodness
I need my money machine to count this lil' shit for me
Money machine go beep beep
Hop in my car skr skr skr
Dudu dudu dudu beep beep
All these fuck boys wanna be me
His bitch let me fuck cause I got racks
So I hit it like bang bang, skeet skeet
Tatted up like fuck yeah
Money tatted on my mind, yeah
30 tatted on my gun, yeah
It’s time to have fun, yeah
His bitch say she wanna fuck me
She really wanna fuck my money
Thought that I ain’t know
She thought that I was a dummy
Told her save that shit
Baby you on that lame ass shit
I don’t play that shit
I got racks up in my pocket, racks up in my pocket
I got thots all in my phone calling me, bitch stop it
Fourteen hundred for this belt, this ain’t no damn Versace
And I’m smoking on this dope, my hobby getting money
I count money like a pro, you know that I done done it
Twenties, fifties, hundreds, bitch I’m stunting
Fifties, hundreds, twenties, oh my goodness
I need my money machine to count this lil' shit for me