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Credits
PERFORMING ARTISTS
Gucci Mane
Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Anthony Lorenzo Holmes Jr.
Songwriter
Radric Delantic Davis
Songwriter
Tiquon Pryor
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Kori Anders
Mixing Engineer
Colin Leonard
Mastering Engineer
Hitkidd
Producer
TP808
Producer
Lyrics
[Intro]
Once again, I'm locked in with TP, we finna make a hit
[Chorus]
I'm confident I'll never run out of money
They pray that I fall, but I kept it a hundred
Drop change on a bitch, girl, this bread on your bonnet
And she fell back in love with my dick in her stomach
These bitches be clumsy and nosy and rummaging
She didn't eat before she started drinking, she vomited
These **** ain't eating, they stomachs be grumbling
Claim that they fasting, but no, it ain't Ramadan
Keep puttin' out music, but nobody cares
He did a show, but wasn't nobody there
Wanna be me but it's hard to be me, known to put on some shit that wouldn't nobody wear
My watch is icy, I need a Moncler
If you run up, you get done up right there
2019, tried give me a Grammy, in 2005, tried to give me the chair
[Verse 1]
Street **** turned legal millionaire, I feel like a billion, one hell of a feeling
She took an edible, say it's incredible, took off her shirt and start showing her titty
Writers on strike and I know why they did it, Hollywood moguls be paying 'em pennies
AI can't write the song Gucci would write 'cause AI didn't stay up all night in the trenches
I got a lick, is you coming or not?
All this free money, they handing it out
I told my artist to stick to the script, they show love when you broke, but they hate when you hot
I get two, three hundred thousand a feature
I robbed a bank with no mask, it was legal
I took the cake and split it with my people
I dropped a classic, then came with a sequel
Before it was legal, we smoked like it's legal
Stood on the couch and turned over the speakers
And my promo team was the neighborhood geekers
My first Trap House album, two naked shit-eaters
Young **** listen, go get you some money
This shit won't be easy and I'm being honest
They gon' talk down when they think it ain't working
But when you pop out, they gon' all be astonished
[Chorus]
I'm confident I'll never run out of money
They pray that I fall, but I kept it a hundred
Drop change on a bitch, girl, this bread on your bonnet
And she fell back in love with my dick in her stomach
These bitches be clumsy and nosy and rummaging
She didn't eat before she started drinking, she vomited
These **** ain't eating, they stomachs be grumbling
Claim that they fasting, but no, it ain't Ramadan
Keep puttin' out music, but nobody cares
He did a show, but wasn't nobody there
Wanna be me, but it's hard to be me, known to put on some shit that wouldn't nobody wear
My watch is icy, I need a Moncler
If you run up, you get done up right there
2019, tried give me a Grammy, in 2005, tried to give me the chair
[Verse 2]
ATL, Georgia one hell of a place, you come for vacation, but leave on probation
The way she keep shaking her ass with no waist, shit ain't a game, it ain't no recreation
Her booty keep clappin', a standing ovation
Told me to chill, but I'm losing my patience
Pussy like water and head is amazing
I'm smelling like money, she lovin' the fragrance
Please call me Gucci, better not call me Radric
He signed the contract, didn't flip through the pages
I fucked her and fell asleep, that shit was crazy
The way she kept sucking was making me lazy
Caught like three nuts, so I'm calling her Tracy
I made her dance, so I'm calling her Stacy
Fuck a rich ****, you know that she bragging
Her titties so perky, hell no, they ain't sagging
Lil' mama look like she been dragging a wagon
My homie so geeked, said it's Megan Thee Stallion
Her ex-**** broke, he a dud, he be crabby
He make excuses, but I make it happen
Started off trappin', but switched it to rappin'
My bitch is an addict, addicted to fashion
I'm the one these **** hate with a passion
My dog turned to snake, could've sworn it was magic (Well, damn)
Written by: Anthony Holmes, Anthony Lorenzo Holmes Jr., Radric Delantic Davis, Tiquon Pryor