Sam Pain nigga woah woah
Shit been getting real and getting risky
When you young and getting money
Gotta keep your drac shit get sticky
18-wheeler driving through downtown you cant miss it
We getting to it niggas fucking up the bag like Miles Bridges
Scrape the bowl until you get up everything thats how Im living
Stack that money up to the ceiling
Used to baking soda every pound to make a killing
Bosses take all the loses you lil trappers gotta know the difference
Balling I do this often I look relaxed but I aint slipping
Got a homie chasing that perc itch hopping counters he gon risk it
If i pass the ball I pray that he dont miss it
Lil boy was having motion but now he finished
All that scamming aint get him no where but emotional and he livid
All that money that niggas was talking now I hear crickets
Tryna stay alive I stay on my pivot
Got that 40 by my britches praying another homie dont stick me
Niggas only see whats in front of them thats they stigma
Bitches only gon want that money Im a go getter
I blessed my hood bitch Glorilla
I be soul searching angel round demons and cold killers
My nigga pole working G on the unit gave him the whole 50
I dont play the block the police always tryn stop and frisk me
I gotta keep a Glock Im getting money this shit be getting risky
This number for the fam so dont call me talking work
I walk in the room and listen first fuck you talking for
I unlock the beamer and it sound just like a Nextel chirping
Took a L and cried about told that boy pull down his skirt
From the first to first watch the bag twerk Im counting money
Nigga played first just like karma on him Im coming for him
Nigga touch my brother turn to Wilt Chamberlain hunnit on em
In that kitchen like a frat we got that boy we stomping on it
In the summer still snowing say they watching still going
Thotties feeling on my pocket tryna get a feel for me
I cant even post my cars and cribs I got real money
I spent 10 thousand over 3-4 hours I still got pill money
Spent 2 thousand off in a pop my bitch bill money
I aint even gotta have no guap they gon kill for me
Label aint talking M&Ms that aint deal money
Out of town rolling on the hill Jack and Jill on em
Been balling since a youngin like Lamelo ask em they know
My blood been getting money since the gold chains and kangols
Wide body Trackhawk Durangos at Wokcanos
Who you know come up out the mud without a stain on em