order more remix
Gotti Yo
I got racks on the menu
She need more, shawty, cash on the menu
Show some more, need that ass on a menu
Make it clap we got cash on the menu
Oooh, fuck around and order more money
Oooh, fuck around and order more
Oooh baby, we gon' order more money
Oooh, fuck around and order more
I'm popping champagne, now I'm pouring more
I just ran out of ones it's time to order more
So if you want this cash, you gotta show some more
That private dance is through that corridor (let's go)
I'm off drugs and a bunch of shots
After party at my crib, oh, with a bunch of thots
So order more bottles, don't care what the cost
My neighbor is a bitch, they tried to call the cops (you bitch)
Fuck you I'm living life, all good don't need advice
Pussy is my favorite vice, I see you, I get enticed
Them titties nice, tonight, I'ma hit it twice
Coming home on that Bay Bridge
2 AM on them city nights, yeah
Oooh, fuck around and order more money
Oooh, fuck around and order more
Oooh, baby, we gon' order more money
Oooh, fuck around and order more
Keep a bag, blow a bag, throw a bag, it ain't nothin'
I'm the weatherman, thunderstorm, forecast whole hundred
Don't want no model girl, I want a bottle girl
And you want a baller girl, and I'm right here balling, girl
I'mma send you an Uber, and she from Aruba
She know nothing about this thug life, she like, "What is a shooter?"
Took her down in Miami, put that bitch on a scooter
Took her straight to the Fountainbleau, I know just how to do her
She said she had a man, but she know how to maneuver
She give me head underwater, so I'mma call her my scuba
Doubt, Rolls Royce on deck, travel
Shawty's ass so fat, rattle
Told a bitch I love her, liar
Waitress all out of ones, fired
Pfft, I got old money, I can retire with it
Tryna fuck a check up now, ain't tryna die with it
Money bag, money bag
Got a whole bunch of stacks, got a whole lotta ass
If for her, I just might
Oooh, fuck around and order more money
Oooh, fuck around and order more
Oooh, baby, we gon' order more money
Oooh, throw a pound and order more
I'm about to order some more money, just to throw it at her
That money doesn't matter, I'll make it back mañana
I hit it like a batter, I make it rat-a-tat-a
I never give her answers, I never give her data
Mama, she a dancer, she dance her fucking ass off
She take her fucking pants off, and dance her fucking ass off
She let me feel that ass soft, charge it to my Black Card
She fucked me for that iPhone, she so tired of that Android
An outdoor person, having orgies in my backyard
I think her ass got steroids, this dick, it feel like heroin
Lil Tunechi, the East landlord, but I had to expand, Lord
Shining on these niggas, got them looking for some tan oil
I got all these bands, boy, these hoes call me Band Boy
Weezy F. Band Boy stay in pussy, not on the tabloids
And just to think I was the bag boy
Now I got that bag, boy, drop that Coupe on alloys
Just order some more cash, boy, just order some more cash, boy
Oooh, fuck around and order more money (order some more cash boy)
Oooh, fuck around and order more (drop that Coupe on alloys)
Oooh, baby we gon' order more money (now I got that bag, boy, now I got that bag, boy)
Oooh, throw a pound and order more (Weezy F. Band Boy, just order some more cash, boy)
Oh, yeah, it's Young Mula, baby