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Credits

COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Steven Nguyen
Steven Nguyen
Songwriter
ZecQurie Cannon
ZecQurie Cannon
Songwriter
Kevan Branch
Kevan Branch
Songwriter
Brian Robertson
Brian Robertson
Songwriter
Damien Roberson
Damien Roberson
Songwriter
Logan Jackson
Logan Jackson
Songwriter
Donnovan Evans
Donnovan Evans
Songwriter
Marcus Princeton Wesley
Marcus Princeton Wesley
Songwriter

Lyrics

Turn me up in the head phones strizzy
When that bitch drop
Get money music yea
What that is
That's that money machine
Stupid
Gotta work like I'm broke, ain't been broke in a minute
Bro pushing pounds, he invested in fitness
Louis givenchy, I'm changing my image
Check my background, bet you won't find a blemish
Bro work the stick like he working for Disney
Ain't one of us if he speak on the business
Went bought that watch, and they thought I was finished
Woke up and spent 50k on a pendant
These **** be broken, I swear that they's finished
I run up that paper relentless
Mob4e, we know we standing on business
Ballin' so hard, nah, this ain't a scrimmage
Ballin' so hard, I ain't got no jumper
Listen to this, you gon' run up some commas
Wanna be a boss, gotta start out a runner
Lay where you playin', that's word to my mama
Ayy, poppin' my shit, got a car on my wrist
just got off the phone with the plug, bitch, it lit
If I get that load, my bro need some bows
I'ma give him the low and split all of this shit
Don't speak on the business, I pull up and handle the business i'm tryna buy all this shit she want me to visit but i'm to busy tryna get it i really be dogging the bitch
Been in the field since I was a jit
Pop me a perk, I be high then a bitch
**** talk too much, get you popped in the shit
**** know how I rock, yea i'm solid as bricks
**** late, I been fucked it up with the Dentist
Catch me with 20s, I'm finna go spend it
Like my blue, I'm be fuckin' with spinach
My lil' brother a demon, can't wait to go spin it
Make 27k off the dice in the night
Said she fuckin' and juggin', I'll send her a flight
Dropped on a navy, next day get wiped
Got lit off glass, ain't touch no white
Young turnt kid, I'm not your average
Money all green, just like some cabbage
Louis V only, ain't wearin' no Lanvins
Mob4E tell the bitch go brand it
Only want head, don't mean to offend her
You know I'm a pop it, every November
Extreme motion, not no pretender
Can't come around, you ain't with the members
If you 4E or not, what you want, you gon' choose
Go against this shit, on God, you gon' lose
Fuck him, I pop out a hundred in blues
Amiri with stars, I remember the trues
Ice in my chest where I can't even breathe
All these racks to my name, the hoe can't even leave
Get head in the whip, so I can't even speed
Pass **** up, I be takin' the lead
Fucked up the count, I was watchin' the camera
Switch on the glit, like I'm switchin' the channel
Made a hunnid k quick, had to shoot to atlanta
Down bad on my D, bought like Julius Randle
Shoot out of town, go urus, no hummer
I'm into the pape, I'm not into the drama
A bad bitch bring the play, she contribute the dollar
What I made out the Jugg yeah, you talking to comma
Extreme motion with chase, put that shit on my mama
What I made out the chase, they might owe me a pension
What I spent in Miami, could've went to the dentist
Lil' brother be trippin', you need to switches
Spent the light ticket, that's just on the fashion
Go ask the city, they'll tell you we havin'
4E the biggest, we ball like the Mavericks
Got the whole world screamin', I know Dallas
Stro you a genius
Written by: Brian Robertson, Damien Roberson, Donnovan Evans, Kevan Branch, Logan Jackson, Marcus Princeton Wesley, Steven Nguyen, ZecQurie Cannon
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