Lyrics

RGF productions Remy Boyz, yeah-ah 1738, ay I'm like, "Hey, what's up? Hello" (ay) Sit your pretty ass, soon as you came in the door (yeah) I just wanna chill, got a sack for us to roll (yeah) Married to the money, introduced her to my stove Showed her how to whip it, now she remixin' for low (yeah) She my trap queen, let her hit the bando (yeah) We be countin' up, watch how far the bands go (yeah) We just set a goal, talkin' matchin' Lambos In love with the money, I ain't never lettin' go And I get high with my baby (my baby) I just left the mall, I'm gettin' fly with my baby, yeah And I can ride with my baby (my baby) I be in the kitchen cookin' pies with my baby, yeah And I can ride with my baby I just left the mall, I'm gettin' fly with my baby, yeah And I can ride with my baby (yeah, ay) I be in the kitchen cookin' pies (ay, ay, ay) I'm like, "Hey, what's up? Hello"
Writer(s): Tony Fadd, Willie J. Maxwell Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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