nigga wit money
Work on the kitchen table
Where the bags at
Work on the kitchen table
Where the bags at
Work on the kitchen table
Where the bags at
Work, work
I'm a nigga with money
I'm a nigga with money
I'm a nigga with money
And I don't love that bitch
I tell her; bitch, bitch, bitch, bitch, make me rich
I'm a nigga with money
And I don't love that bitch
Yeah
Backpack
Full of stacks
All the bitches love me
Don't compare me
To these rappers
I'm on a different budget
I ain't even gotta practice
Never getting rusty
No I ain't lookin down
But I see no one above me
The paper bag brown, wit dirty green money
The bank account good, full of clean money
Fuck chain money
I blow ring money
I got that motherfuckin never-see-the-bank money
Magazine money
Do a spread on me
And you can turn your back, but never turn the Feds on me
Read the note attached: We got ya lil homey
We need bread homey, or that's ya dead homey
I'm like a Corleone, meet the fucking mob
I can get you whacked, or give your ass a job
Weezy F B
I holla CMB
Coca Cola classic, caffeine free
Stop playing with me, stop playing with me bitch
Stop playing with me, stop playing with me bitch
I'm a cash money stunner on my 14th summer
Dick a bitch down and take everything from her
Now run to the kitchen, I ain't hungry, I ate
Bitch put 36 O's on my plate
See my pa was cooking slabs while my mom was cooking dinner
See my momma is a chef and my daddy was a dealer
Grandaddy was a dealer and my auntie is a killer
I hope she know I love her, pray the pigs never get her
My brother still a baby, and my uncle kinda raised me
Y'all pray for his wife, cause that cancer shit is crazy
And my daughter's so smart that it scares me
Her mother is an angel, she's always there for me
And me, I'm just wild; I think I need therapy
Because I'm going after that money, no matter where it be
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