Lyrics

Oh my god Youngest in the club with seven bottles Sipping on oh my god I cannot walk Boy Talk is cheap that's why you talk too much Holy shit, think i just took a picture with your bitch New money who this New money 5 digits Ah ah ah ah ah ah Which crib you wanna visit Which crib you wanna stay Live and die in LA Ah ah ah ah ah ah Big crib with a gate Palm trees by the bay I been smoking all day Can't pronounce what I drink I been up in a haze Oh my god Youngest in the club with seven bottles Sipping on oh my god I cannot walk Boy Talk is cheap that's why you talk too much Holy shit, think i just took a picture with your bitch New money who this New money 5 digits Which crib you wanna visit Which crib you wanna visit The car is like the crib Bought it we don't rent These boys don't relate Make their years allowance in set Yeah that's why they hate I'm making too much cash for my age (age) See me posted in the club it's prolly cause I'm getting payed You gotta pay to go and stand around a bunch of fucking fakes He might be rich but girls it's daddies cash I did this on my own She might be your bitch but you ain't the one she call when she alone Oh my god Youngest in the club with seven bottles Sipping on oh my god I cannot walk Boy Talk is cheap that's why you talk too much Holy shit, think i just took a picture with your bitch New money who this, oh whoa New money 5 digits
Writer(s): Michael Morare, Jesse Caldon Mollett Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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