Oil Money (feat. Chuck Inglish, Chip tha Ripper, Bun B & Dan Auerbach)

[Verse 1: Chuck Inglish] Where do we have to go I don't know, let me know where we end up Cause I'm not about to sit and watch it get us Just picture the stickers is on it And it's flashy, flauntin', funny that them people only want that gold to pawn it I need that gold to wear it on the court like I'm Jordan Performin', I'm scorin' way more than I'm supposed to and I'm lookin' way better in person than my photos But let's not talk about me Let's talk about this If it's too hot then take your hands off Pass it like Joe Montana Champions Hats off, salute Now what do you look forward to, the landing or the take off Get back cause them apes I gotta harlem shake off I got the paint, I just need some shit to paint on [Chorus:] This is a lullaby Not intended to make you cry But to open up your eyes And in this lullaby You got to do right Before you die Before you die [Verse 2: Chip Tha Ripper] Cleveland nigga wintertime I catch a flight to somewhere sunny Come to visit Fuck yo couch they shouldn't have gave us niggas money For the honeys Like they woulda said in '94 Bumpin jodisee and anything I say will probly go While we smoking in that 'Lac truck headed to the mall Now we coppin' even though I left my wallet in the car Yeah she got it, deposit we got it, good credit good head and it's all copasetic She cool and she get it, priceless The nice tits, she got that look twice chest, she righteous we might just Valet the Mercedes in the front just to give 'em what they want Cameras flashin' hoppin' out with the blunt [Chorus] [Verse 3: Freddie Gibbs] Who knew this rappin' shit would pay off I'm firin' up the kill like I got fired on my day off See a whole lotta niggas get broke and like some broad they like to break off And the same old bitch that spent their change with be the same bitch I'm gonna shake off The monster of the mid yo [?] Peace to all my OT hoes and the gifts they love to send a nigga Fresh white socks and a black d bones We done rode down back and [?] Bend these foes on stage at the show blowin' out those swishas witcha (Feel it nigga) If ya'll broke then I can keep my day job Ski mask is my uniform and them dope dealers gonna stay robbed T-top ceiling and my dank still stinkin' and I crush ya feelings like the saints did peyton [Chorus] [Verse 4: Bun B] Fresh pair of levi's white t and 6 carmines Hoppin' out some 2010 shit yes, the car's mine Sittin' in Corinthians sit back watch the stars shine I know you starstruck shit I can leave a star blind Booyah just like Isaiah A playa, the pro bowl, the mayor I'm so cold, they stare The ho stroll's prepared I'm pimpin' my ride out Then back to my lair The honeycomb hideout Your honey's go hide out in my crib like a fugitive She wanna have a ball I told her I got two to give She wanna see the flashin' lights and red carpet I let her pop a double stack, I'm tryin' to start shit She's on her bare skin layin' in a bear skin Her body's super thick and it's fair skin, I'm there then On my sofa smokin' jacket Gucci loafers and I'm blowin' on a swisher while she's blowin' me It's over [Repeat]