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Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Wale
Wale
Vocals
Spinz Beats
Spinz Beats
Programming
Lil Wayne
Lil Wayne
Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Daniel Forrest
Daniel Forrest
Songwriter
Dwayne Michael Carter, Jr.
Dwayne Michael Carter, Jr.
Songwriter
Olubowale Akintimehin
Olubowale Akintimehin
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Dave Kutch
Dave Kutch
Mastering Engineer
Spinz Beats
Spinz Beats
Producer
Kevin Spencer
Kevin Spencer
Mixing Engineer

Songteksten

Bitches want money stacks, I just want my percent She told me to hit the hole, I used to play running back You niggas be fumbling, don't you give 'em no gun again These bitches be flying out, yeah, 'cause money be coming in Said the money be coming in, the money be coming in The money be coming in, the money be coming in See you niggas just run your mouth, yeah My niggas, we run the city The money be coming in, the money be coming in Look, my bitch is on Tumblr, your bitch need a tummy tuck Since Jesus of Nazareth, the realest you've come across I be with killers just coming home They only hope is me and the Quran They only wish is for a new chain But they stuck up in the ankle bracelet I get the money stacked, see the moon's where it's sunny at And I move where the realest be And the quickest, see baby, you gettin' lapped Yeah, the DMV on the map That's a city, two states if you can count I'm as real as I say, I never lie So whenever I go, know I'm runnin' back Bitches want money stacks, I just want my percent She told me to hit the hole, I used to play running back You niggas be fumbling, don't you give 'em no gun again These bitches be flying out, yeah, 'cause money be coming in Said the money be coming in, the money be coming in The money be coming in, the money be coming in See you niggas just run your mouth, yeah My niggas, we run the city The money be coming in, the money be coming in These bitches want money stacks Me? I want a hundred stacks These bitches selling their soul Well, I want my money back She bounce it like jumping jacks, but she got a funny ass Look what them booty shots done to that That bitch need her money back, Lord She like the finer things, she said I sent her a diamond ring She say I buy her all kinds of things She lie about everything I put her on time out and everything I cut the bitch off like a thread of string These hoes'll say about anything 'Cause they know that y'all believe everything That's why I get high about everything All of this fog like the weather change Turn the strip club to a hurricane We got that cocaine, snow flurry gang And we do not play games 'bout money, mane She do something strange for money, mane Yeah, I used to play running back I turned that football to a money bag, I'm gone Bitches want money stacks, I just want my percent She told me to hit the hole, I used to play running back You niggas be fumbling, don't you give 'em no gun again These bitches be flying out, yeah, 'cause money be coming in Said the money be coming in, the money be coming in The money be coming in, the money be coming in See you niggas just run your mouth, yeah My niggas, we run the city The money be coming in, the money be coming in Balling, we balling, we balling Balling (Balling), hey darling (Hey darling) Sweet darling (Hey darling), you know we ballin' We balling, Wale, fuck with me Mula baby Yeah, Blue Moon, yeah We gon' ball all season, whole season and post-season For no reason, fuck with me
Writer(s): Daniel Forrest, Dwayne Carter Jr., Gary Hill, Olubowale Akintimehin Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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