Letra

(Webb made this) (Yeah) Sonny rollin' got some flex My place so full, nigga, you can say that two times The goal was to make 50 bands, I done did that a few times I'm 25 four times, bitch, I'm 50 two times Two times say he don't shoot cribs, chopsticks, he don't even shoot .9s 300 hunnids on me (okay), she gon' see this and be lit (yeah) I hit the horn and keep goin' (oh), 'cause you niggas ain't talkin' 'bout shit (yeah) I sat my whole circle down ('kay), like nigga we gotta rich (ayy) Like nigga we gotta get icy, we just can't fall in love with the shit (hey) After we had that talk (what?), them niggas ain't stop workin' (yeah) I'm in love with Tinashe, I can't wait to see to her in person (ayy) I can't wait to see if she loyal (yeah), can't wait to see if she a squirter (nasty) For you niggas that can't wait to rob me, I got niggas that can't wait to murder (blaow) King Tee, I'm your highness, niggas don't wanna take it to violence (yeah) The same way I act out in public is the same way I act while in private (what? For real) I cannot go to the club (yeah), if I can't get in with my fire (blaow) And 30 bottles of the finest, and watch the money get to flyin' (yeah) Like hol' up (hol' up), catch it (yeah), hol' up, catch it Hol' up (ayy), hol' up (what?), hol' up, catch it (yeah), like hol' up, catch it (what?) Hol' up, catch it, hol' up, hol' up, hol' up, catch it Run off wit' it (hey), we gon' catch 'em Pray for the opps and bless they man's restin' Caught the bag at breakfast, it's gone and still breakfast Rob my man's and gave it back, stupid we still stretched 'em (yeah) When I wanna talk about nothin' (what?), take me a lil' break from the money (for real) I'ma come holler at y'all, matter fact leave me your number (yeah) And when I'm tired thumbin' through hunnids, when I'm sick of runnin' up commas I'ma come see what y'all on, I'ma let your bitch know when I'm comin' (for real) These niggas ain't fuckin' with me, nigga, that ain't no money to me Nigga, I blow all of that shit, when I go it ain't comin' with me I was in St. Louis, ain't talkin' Missouri, and two had a hunnid on me (ayy) That's a lil' big homie, nigga, touch 'em at two you won't make it to three (for real) I was with all of the shooters, when I heard it was money on me I was around the hitman when I found out it was money on me Either niggas don't know what they doin' (ayy), or they scared to go for the kill (they scared) We know they know what they doin', 'em niggas just know what it is (yeah), ah Hol' up (hol' up), catch it (yeah), hol' up, catch it (yeah) Hol' up (whoa), hol' up (yeah), hol' up, catch it (whoa) Like hol' up (ayy), catch it, hol' up, catch it (yeah), hol' up, hol' up (yeah), hol' up (yeah), catch it (yeah) Run off wit' it (hey), we gon' catch 'em Pray for the opps and bless they man's restin' Caught the bag at breakfast, it's gone and still breakfast Rob my man's and gave it back, stupid we still stretched 'em (yeah) Yeah-yeah, I fuck with that, 100 Yeah
Writer(s): Sonny Corey Uwaezuoke, Branden Webb, Terry Wallace Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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