Mo Paper (feat. YG)

(Yeah, you know what i'm sayin?)

(Can't ever switch, huh)

(Aye, mm, aye, aye, huh)

You ain't a boss, you can't touch her

I might just paint the Bentley mustard (Skrrt)

I got rich, that's on my mother (Yah)

Say she love you, still can't trust her

Cop the Porsche, drop the top

Then I Speed Race it (Skrrt)

But my frames, they Dior

I can't see, baby

Why your boyfriend a lame?

I got more paper

Burn the money up

Now I got more

Where my stash box?

Bring the racks out

Watch your bad bop (Bad)

I blew that cash out (Cash, what)

Ran my money up

Now I got more haters (I got more paper)

Bitches wanna fuck 'cause I got more paper

Now I Speed Race

I want more face

My bitch bake the cake

I might slide the Wraith

Hermès links

Check the sinks

Chanel when she blink

She want that 'Rari pink (Skrrt, skrrt)

You ain't a boss, you can't touch her

I might just paint the Bentley mustard (Skrrt)

I got rich, that's on my mother (Yah)

Say she love you, still can't trust her

Cop the Porsche, drop the top

Then I Speed Race it (Skrrt)

But my frames, they Dior

I can't see, baby

Why your boyfriend a lame?

I got more paper

Burn the money up

Now I got more haters

I need the bag

Fast, fast, fast, fast (Fast)

Pulled up, Lambo

**** mad, mad, mad, mad (**** mad)

Saint Laurent, hard bottoms

Splash, splash, splash, splash (Splash)

You might slip on the drip

You might need the cash

I painted my 6-4 red (Red)

A lot of my homies dead (Dead)

Some of my homies Blue (Blue)

A lot of my homies Red (Red)

On Bloods, I need that head (Head)

I'm tryna feel it in my legs (Legs)

I'm tryna spend a little bread (Bread)

Fuck it up at Sakks, yeah (Yeah)

All my bitches drive Benz

I'll put you in a Benz (I'll put you in a Benz)

All my hoes conniving

They finesse them M's (They finesse them M's)

Rich **** slide in, oh yeah, yeah she did (Oh yeah, yeah she did)

Before you fuck me, give that pussy a cleanse (Yeah)

You ain't a boss, you can't touch her

I might just paint the Bentley mustard (Skrrt)

I got rich, that's on my mother (Yah)

Say she love you, still can't trust her

Cop the Porsche, drop the top

Then I Speed Race it (Skrrt)

But my frames, they Dior

I can't see, baby

Why your boyfriend a lame?

I got more paper

Burn the money up

Now I got more haters