If it's not about the money, sorry I wont go
I was taught to chasing a f*cking bag, before I cuff a hoe
Free all of the members who got knocked for playing with they poles
Bitch I'm in the trap, crushing down, selling bowl by bowl
(Ah Ah)
Oh you think you hard, but you can't even handle smoke
If I call up Lucki, Lucci, best believe he turn you ghost
My niggas real up in this shit bitch, we ain't capping for a post
Free the f*cking X-Men, 'cus they really left shit toast
(Hah, bitch)
I'm swerving lanes up on the e-way, cutting up like Randy Moss
Yah, and I ain't doing shit, but risking it all for the cost
Shorddy tryna' f*ck with me now, 'cus she see that I'm a boss
If the jakes behind this V, ain't a thing I'm finna' toss
Take they ass up on a chase, you know that I get 'em lost
I hate posting on the Gram, that's how niggas stealing sauce
Got this GG for the low, yah I don't care to use my mach'
(Ah, yah, bitch)
I mix-match my designer, rocking shit I can't pronounce
Baby you ain't tryna' f*ck, sorry then you gotta' bounce
I been smoking bare quads, I down this shit right by the ounce
Yah, if you ain't locked in, you getting left out
All this f*cking motion, little bitch, I'm on the cash route
If I take a loss, I sit back, hoe you know that I wont pout
Get off my ass and get it back, yah you know what I'm about
If it's not about the money, sorry I wont go
I was taught to chasing a f*cking bag, before I cuff a hoe
Free all of the members who got knocked for playing with they poles
Bitch I'm in the trap, crushing down, selling bowl by bowl
(Ah Ah)
Oh you think you hard, but you can't even handle smoke
If I call up Lucki, Lucci, best believe he turn you ghost
My niggas real up in this shit bitch, we ain't capping for a post
Free the f*cking X-Men, 'cus they really left shit toast
247ski - Randy Moss Lyrics
247ski - Randy Moss Lyrics
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English
If it's not about the money, sorry I wont go
I was taught to chasing a f*cking bag, before I cuff a hoe
Free all of the members who got knocked for playing with they poles
Bitch I'm in the trap, crushing down, selling bowl by bowl
(Ah Ah)
Oh you think you hard, but you can't even handle smoke
If I call up Lucki, Lucci, best believe he turn you ghost
My niggas real up in this shit bitch, we ain't capping for a post
Free the f*cking X-Men, 'cus they really left shit toast
(Hah, bitch)
I'm swerving lanes up on the e-way, cutting up like Randy Moss
Yah, and I ain't doing shit, but risking it all for the cost
Shorddy tryna' f*ck with me now, 'cus she see that I'm a boss
If the jakes behind this V, ain't a thing I'm finna' toss
Take they ass up on a chase, you know that I get 'em lost
I hate posting on the Gram, that's how niggas stealing sauce
Got this GG for the low, yah I don't care to use my mach'
(Ah, yah, bitch)
I mix-match my designer, rocking shit I can't pronounce
Baby you ain't tryna' f*ck, sorry then you gotta' bounce
I been smoking bare quads, I down this shit right by the ounce
Yah, if you ain't locked in, you getting left out
All this f*cking motion, little bitch, I'm on the cash route
If I take a loss, I sit back, hoe you know that I wont pout
Get off my ass and get it back, yah you know what I'm about
If it's not about the money, sorry I wont go
I was taught to chasing a f*cking bag, before I cuff a hoe
Free all of the members who got knocked for playing with they poles
Bitch I'm in the trap, crushing down, selling bowl by bowl
(Ah Ah)
Oh you think you hard, but you can't even handle smoke
If I call up Lucki, Lucci, best believe he turn you ghost
My niggas real up in this shit bitch, we ain't capping for a post
Free the f*cking X-Men, 'cus they really left shit toast
I was taught to chasing a f*cking bag, before I cuff a hoe
Free all of the members who got knocked for playing with they poles
Bitch I'm in the trap, crushing down, selling bowl by bowl
(Ah Ah)
Oh you think you hard, but you can't even handle smoke
If I call up Lucki, Lucci, best believe he turn you ghost
My niggas real up in this shit bitch, we ain't capping for a post
Free the f*cking X-Men, 'cus they really left shit toast
(Hah, bitch)
I'm swerving lanes up on the e-way, cutting up like Randy Moss
Yah, and I ain't doing shit, but risking it all for the cost
Shorddy tryna' f*ck with me now, 'cus she see that I'm a boss
If the jakes behind this V, ain't a thing I'm finna' toss
Take they ass up on a chase, you know that I get 'em lost
I hate posting on the Gram, that's how niggas stealing sauce
Got this GG for the low, yah I don't care to use my mach'
(Ah, yah, bitch)
I mix-match my designer, rocking shit I can't pronounce
Baby you ain't tryna' f*ck, sorry then you gotta' bounce
I been smoking bare quads, I down this shit right by the ounce
Yah, if you ain't locked in, you getting left out
All this f*cking motion, little bitch, I'm on the cash route
If I take a loss, I sit back, hoe you know that I wont pout
Get off my ass and get it back, yah you know what I'm about
If it's not about the money, sorry I wont go
I was taught to chasing a f*cking bag, before I cuff a hoe
Free all of the members who got knocked for playing with they poles
Bitch I'm in the trap, crushing down, selling bowl by bowl
(Ah Ah)
Oh you think you hard, but you can't even handle smoke
If I call up Lucki, Lucci, best believe he turn you ghost
My niggas real up in this shit bitch, we ain't capping for a post
Free the f*cking X-Men, 'cus they really left shit toast
Writer: Michael Skye
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid