Where Them $ @

Where the money?

Money, money, money

Money, money, money

Yeah, what they talking 'bout?

Like we ain't got them muhfucking bags, boy

Ran up a check, and then cashed out

Ya understand me?

(I'm in London, got my beat in London)

Where them dollars at?

Where them ballers at?

Where them collars at?

Yeah, yeah

Fuck a dollar bill

Where them hunnids at?

Blow it like a fan

(Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh)

Where them dollars at?

Where them ballers at?

Where them collars at?

Yeah, yeah

Fuck a dollar bill

Where them hunnids at?

Blow it like a fan

Dance off the strip

Dance off the strip

Keep your hands off if you ain't tipping

Please don't touch, we ain't cool

Keep your hands off if you ain't tipping

He say he love me when I'm drunk

'Cause I get freaky off the liquor

Oh I'm balling like the Wizards

I throw my lighter to the Sisher's

Some bitches tryna hate

That's how I drive off in a pick up

Ya **** only see me on the weekend

Like I'm SZA

Yah, I need my bag up front

I spend a hunnid, like ones

Ain't no broke bitch in my section

Do it like Pablo, no passing

Hoping he say it sexy

It's so much cash, he got up

Said, "Dreezy you a blessing!"

I just keep on pouring liquor

And I'm whipping on ****

All my bitches with me, rolling

Got more smoke than all the ****

Doors slipping, foreign whipping

Whole life had to go and get it

Get you, take you, try to stunt

I got three fire in my blunt

(Who want smoke?)

Where them dollars at?

Where them ballers at?

Where them collars at?

Yeah, yeah

Fuck a dollar bill

Where them hunnids at?

Blow it like a fan

(Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh)

Where them dollars at?

Where them ballers at?

Where them collars at?

Yeah, yeah

Fuck a dollar bill

Where them hunnids at?

Blow it like a fan

Dance off the strip

Dance off the strip

Keep your hands off if you ain't tipping

Please don't touch, we ain't cool

Keep your hands off if you ain't tipping

Yah, got a money bag

I'm a go and get the sack

And I'm a running back

Pull up with some bad bitches

Prolly 'bout a hunnid racks

**** try to touch, we on yo' ass

It ain't none of that

Paper on me, dance boy

Pull up in a transporter

Bitches they don't like me

'Cause I think that I'm so damn 'portant

Red light, no camcorder

Put you **** in order

Fine, I'm from the Chi

Gotta peach like I'm in Atlanta, Georgia

Outside like bubblegum

And the inside's like peppermint

Louie V, with my letterman

The bezel, looking like two tens

Dope girl like I'm selling it

Send 'em off, I got melanin

Need Hennessy in my section

And when I leave, counting up presidents

Where them dollars at?

Where them ballers at?

Where them collars at?

Yeah, yeah

Fuck a dollar bill

Where them hunnids at?

Blow it like a fan

(Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh)

Where them dollars at?

Where them ballers at?

Where them collars at?

Yeah, yeah

Fuck a dollar bill

Where them hunnids at?

Blow it like a fan

Dance out the strip

Dance out the strip

Keep your hands off if you ain't tipping

Please don't touch, we ain't cool

Keep your hands off if you ain't tipping