(If It Aint Bout Money) [BONUS] (feat. Esco Vo)

Esco with me right now

Let's get it

Big Esco

Ooh, set, set

I'm with Sub Baby (16)

Ooh, set

If it ain't bout money, baby

Don't be hitting my phone

I don't wanna talk

Can't walk round having za

Ay, when them packs touch, get that shit in and you get that shit off

Pull out them racks, baby I'ma walking vault

Esco in the field like he Randy Moss

Yeen no boss, til you took a loss

Ay, these **** be titty soft

We trap out a loft

Chrome heart jacket the back, got a cross

How much you made, I just lost the count

In the back of the AMG truck, got a bounce

Addin' the commas to my bank account

Trappin' with killers, I'm rappin' with Smacker

Set a thousand dollar cap off Apple

A deuce of that quay poured up in a Snapple

Bitch, I am not no rapper

C4, get your shit blowed down like Nintendo

Off the perkys and honey, I fuck like a nympho

You talk to the police, you gave them the info

These **** be rats, brown, Nino

I let off a shot, Ay, they can even find, Nemo

Shawty bald head, chemo

I put a brick on his head, D-Bo

I'm havin' cheese, you give it back, that's nachos

I'm on the phone with my Mexican vato

My head in the pot, like I'm cooking a pot roast

That's a bitch at the top floor

Takin' a dick in her nostril

You lovin' that bitch, that is my ho

Rocco, get your ass gone by tomorrow

Brand new coupe, got a watch for the pothole

Better cover your shell, put a shell in your taco

Lil fine shit, look like molotto

It ain't about the money, I can't do the combo

Trap open early in the morning like Lonzo

Za pack shot off Gumbo

I let some shots off drum roll

She dropping that neck, give me dumb throat

Chanel on her Coco

These **** 12, popo

Set row shit, free low-so

We got this shit by the boatload

16 set row, I'm from that dope hole

If it ain't bout money, baby

Don't be hitting my phone

I don't wanna talk

Can't walk round having za

Ay, when them packs touch, get that shit in and you get that shit off

Pull out them racks, baby I'ma walking vault

Esco in the field like he Randy Moss

Yeen no boss, til you took a loss

Ay, these **** be titty soft

We trap out a loft

Chrome heart jacket the back, got a cross

How much you made, I just lost the count

In the back of the AMG truck, got a bounce

Addin' the commas to my bank account

Trappin' with killers, I'm rappin' with Smacker

Set a thousand dollar cap off Apple

A deuce of that quay poured up in a Snapple

Bitch, I am not no rapper

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah

Sub walk, Sub walk

Walkin' on these ****, got me walkin' to my vault

Count up all this cash, got **** mad

It ain't my fault, ****, bitch

And get this far without no loss

How the hell young Sub get all that syrup, ain't got no cough

I think I'm nauseous

But I hear money callin', yeah

I stuck my fire inside my coat when I walk in

We can't relate, you not my kind don't call me twin

I been outside all of my life I'm startin' to feel like I'm the wind

Yeah, say i wont sin, then sin again, ya

All these P's on top of P's done got me P'd off

I see lights and start to speed off

Trap go up and down, I call it see-saw

I can't trust none of you ****

Everybody peons

24 shots, no Dion

4-7-8, we started this shit need refunds

I just hit the Prada store today with them benions

All this water on my wrist, it keep me cool, no freon

In Miami fully loaded let's turn the heat on

Blackbird drip fuck V-Lon

Me and Esco bout that money, this pack can get gone

Yeah, I hate to up this switch machine, but shid I'm on

**** shoot and miss bro, target practice, **** domes

If it ain't about no money tell them **** don't call my phone

**** ain't have no pack for real that's facts, I'm one of one, Sub

If it ain't bout money, baby

Don't be hitting my phone

I don't wanna talk

Can't walk round having za

Ay, when them packs touch, get that shit in and you get that shit off

Pull out them racks, baby I'ma walking vault

Esco in the field like he Randy Moss

Yeen no boss, til you took a loss

Ay, these **** be titty soft

We trap out a loft

Chrome heart jacket the back, got a cross

How much you made, I just lost the count

In the back of the AMG truck, got a bounce

Addin' the commas to my bank account

Trappin' with killers, I'm rappin' with Smacker

Set a thousand dollar cap off Apple

A deuce of that quay poured up in a Snapple

Bitch, I am not no rapper