Featured In

Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Ty Bri
Ty Bri
Performer
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Tyjuane Finley
Tyjuane Finley
Composer
Phillip Roberts
Phillip Roberts
Composer
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Philly Ferrari
Philly Ferrari
Producer
Phatty Banks
Phatty Banks
Mixing Engineer

Lyrics

[Intro]
(Rari on the beat)
(Philly Ferrari)
[Verse 1]
Got a, got a freak bitch, she be on some lil' freak shit
Blow this .410, that bitch got a very mean kick (Let it rip)
You don't like me, but your **** tellin' me this (He tellin' me)
And I'm icy, he said that your diamond don't glist' (Ooh, ooh)
Wanna fight me? You know I keep that ruler on my hip (Let it rip)
Hold it tightly, trigger finger, that bitch never lift (It never lift)
Bitch, I might be, Gucci, you know I don't never trip (I never trip)
And I'm pricy, want my attention, spend a whole grip
Notoriety, these bitches ain't nearly fly as me (Uh-uh)
Rollin' silently, she hit the loud and now she high as me (Ooh, ooh)
You a snitch, ****, in the feds, you show compliancy
So you a bitch, ****, we don't talk unjustifiably (What?)
Roll the, roll the window down so I can let this Uzi breathe
Slidin' down your block, I'm poppin' Suzy, got her on her knees
Now she screamin', "Please don't do me, Ty Bri, I'm just tryna leave"
You a goofy, lil' bitch, I'm a nuisance, I don't need your pleas, bae
[Chorus]
I want you to throw some cash on me (Ooh)
Throw some cash on me
Throw some, throw some cash on me (Ooh, ooh)
Blow a bag on me
Throw some, throw some, throw some cash on me (Ooh)
Throw some cash on me
Throw some, throw some cash on me (Ooh, ooh)
Blow a, blow a bag on me
[Verse 2]
One time for my brothers in the trenches moving fishes
**** never heard of Pyrex, get the fuck up out the kitchen
**** fake be in the field, on the real, be on them benches
Thought I loved you, but to hit your stash is my only intention
Got your **** full attention, and he pay for my extensions
Water whippin', said your pussy dry, my pussy be quenchin'
All this sauce I'm drippin', wanna be my main, but I don't listen
All that pillow talkin' to me, ****, motherfuck your feelings
[Chorus]
I want, I want you to throw some cash on me (Ooh)
Throw some cash on me (Ooh)
Throw some, throw some cash on me (Ooh)
Blow a bag on me
Throw some, throw some, throw some cash on me (Ooh)
Throw some cash on me
Throw some, throw some cash on me (Ooh)
Blow a, blow a bag on me
[Verse 3]
See, I'm the type of bitch that a **** want (What?)
Uh-uh, I never need for nothing, yeah, I get my own (My own shit)
Since you can't get me out my hood 'cause I stay in my zone
That's why I press ignore every time he hit up my phone
I want Celine, ho, we ridin' clean, ho
I pop and pour Belaire, but he be sippin' lean, though
I wanna know why you so mad? What you so mean for? (Why're you so mad?)
You should just hop up in your bag and get some green, ho
[Chorus]
I want, I want you to throw some cash on me (Ooh)
Throw some cash on me (Ooh, ooh)
Throw some, throw some cash on me (Ooh)
Blow a bag on me
Throw some, throw some, throw some cash on me (Ooh)
Throw some cash on me
Throw some, throw some cash on me (Ooh)
Blow a, blow a bag on me
Written by: Phillip Roberts, Tyjuane Finley
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