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Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Babyface Ray
Babyface Ray
Vocals
K Money
K Money
Programming
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
kareem devon johnson
kareem devon johnson
Songwriter
Marcellus Register
Marcellus Register
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Babyface Ray
Babyface Ray
Recording Engineer
Peter A. Barker
Peter A. Barker
Mastering Engineer
Jacob Stewart
Jacob Stewart
Assistant Mixing Engineer
K Money
K Money
Producer

Lyrics

You know what I'm sayin', baby? (Okay, KMoney) We vibin' and shit, man Don't get it fucked up though Could never be that Could never be that, man Yeah Ayy I don't want you, I just wanna fuck you (yeah) Let your nigga love you He owe me 'cause I'm gettin' money, that's all you gettin' from me She just wanna rock your chain just because your pendant flooded Pray to God I make it off this shit 'cause all my niggas hustle (I gotta) Niggas sending shots, but they don't never come direct (never) I'm in the Rafs without the laces, but it's shoestrings on my TEC I keep that Styro' on my right, but I spent blue cheese on my left A hundred grams, it's fresh off the press, it's two G's on my belt I'm exhausted, I'm fresh off the road, man Groupies give me sex (come on) I'm a boss, don't let 'em lie They might confuse me with the help (they might) Man, I'm cut from a different cloth Yeah, I be drippin' sauce (yeah) I might have to sit and map it out because these niggas lost Advise you not to piss me off One call and I can get you chalked (hello?) Do it on my own 'cause niggas snitchin', that's what get you caught I had a talk with God, gave me the torch and I'ma never change I had a talk with bro like, "What's the profit?" We press everything Money over bitches Mo-mo-money over bitches, yeah Money over bitches Mo-mo-money over bitches, yeah Ayy Money over bitches Mo-mo-money over bitches, yeah Money over bitches Mo-mo-money over bitches, yeah Ayy Got a nigga, bitch, why would I trust you? (Yeah) Drive me to Kentucky Turn you up, you might get lucky (you might) Let her rock the buffies Don't hate the player, hate the game, woah I learned that from my uncle Fuck the rappin', 'fore we had it poppin', had the traps, was jumpin' Gotta get it, they won't feed you Gotti, tell 'em, "Free you" (my nigga) You the only one that seen it We still here, no, I can't leave you Like my wrist Patrón plat', catch me stuntin' out a beamer They show love across the map, but just know this shit get evil I got dollars on up, tote 'em like they legal (yeah) Fuck her like she mine Hear a car, get in them blinds (I'm gone) Thuggin' in disguise I thank God I beat the odds (thank God) Stand on business, press the line Give it all up to Siobhan Doin' donuts in the Maz, donuts on the mob (yeah) It get hot, they switch up sides (yeah) It go up, then who gon' ride? Screaming, "We the mob, free the mob," that's on everything Lil' cuz clean him up for a dime, waves on every chain Money over bitches Mo-mo-money over bitches, yeah Money over bitches Mo-mo-money over bitches, yeah Ayy Money over bitches Mo-mo-money over bitches, yeah Money over bitches Mo-mo-money over bitches, yeah Ayy
Writer(s): Kareem Johnson Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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