Lyrics

Real trippy niggas Hippy niggas Uh nigga my mom blow that kinda cash nigga What you talking about poppin bottles and shit... Groceries fool Uh you know I kill... Any motherfuckin' song that I go on And now I dont gotta count the money that I spent Cause I get it in My bread so long, my bank big nigga grow long My brain fried nigga so long I hate fake niggas and so on Take all the money that I made this year And that be the reason that you're hatin Plus I smoke the bombest weed I call it Californication A island for vacation I'm piling all this cake A hundred thousand for the safe Just bought a pound and I'mma face it Now watch me You nigga see my pieces try to cropy My Rollie presidential plus the rings that I got on by Versace And I ain't even cocky I'm just confident that I'm the shit You hatin mother fuckers know what time it is I'm just riding around on my side of town Got my windows up and my speakers loud And we smokin so I'm gonna need a pound Bet the haters wish they could see me now But the money in the way Everyone of us get money bruh But the money in the way My nigga on the real, all you see is dollar bill I blow a hundred bands just to fuck around with That ho that you in love with the ho I mess around with Come fuck with a Taylor, blue dream in my paper Bombeizell for my people but tonight I'm doing Jaeger 20 years on and I ain't falling off Niggas flex about the check and they run their mouth Ferrari pull up guess who hoppin out With a double couple in hand and some money count Rockin Louie this I'm rockin Louie that Louie on my ass, Louie on my hat When I hit the club Louie in my hand That's the Louie 13, Louie in my glass
Writer(s): Composer Author Unknown, Jordan Houston, Cameron Jibril Thomaz, Rory Quigley Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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