Yeah, JohnLoe.

I gotta answer for everything.

 I'm fresh as fuck I’m Google Chrome.

Trying to move out of his tax bracket

 Now his ass gotta move back home.

Got real checks off social media.

I barely drop eat off residuals alone.

Got real checks off beatin my feet.

 We ain’t gotta talk money, I leave it alone

My real flex? I get this shit going on.

I do this shit on my own.

You hang round nothing but yes, men.

That shit, there go brittle ya bones.

She like, do you love me? I'm like, yes, baby.

Knowing damn well I don't.

Hold on, I'm trying to think. Hold on,

hold on, pour the drink. Hold on,

 told a bitch that I ain't got it. Um, reality, I just can't.

I can't. Told me that you had me in reality. Shit, you ain't. You ain't. Mom said the bathroom smell like shit.

Got bows up under the sink

One thing an old head and taught me, fuck what you thought. ****, just think. Um,

that shit had me thinking.

Is shit what it was or is this shit jus what it is?

Did she really play me or I played myself? But fuck it, it is what it is. We put shit on the pavement. We loan bows n get payments . We be doing this shit on the daily.

Goin to school high on the daily. Teacher told me to lock in. I needed that

shout out Ms Davis

Now when I get packs

I flip it and put that shit up for me and my baby

**** fuck a seal. I dived in that water and I came straight out like tha navy

****, I'm up for real. I cook go & flex, but lately I'm making & saving.

Came up off nuttin like orgasms. You can say I'm fucking the money.

Little ****, hating shot right past em

Guess buddy say fuck gettin sum money. I be up for the sun, come up, little ****. I know how to wake up and get the money. I know how to wake up and get the money. Ball like Fridays on Sundays.

Yeah.

Yeah, JohnLoe.

I gotta answer for everything.

 I'm fresh as fuck I’m Google Chrome.

Trying to move out of his tax bracket

 Now his ass gotta move back home.

Got real checks off social media.

I barely drop eat off residuals alone.

Got real checks off beatin my feet.

 We ain’t gotta talk money, I leave it alone

My real flex? I get this shit going on.

I do this shit on my own.

You hang round nothing but yes, men.

That shit, there go brittle ya bones.

She like, do you love me? I'm like, yes, baby.

Knowing damn well I don't.