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Galore Video (MV)




Performed By: OBN Jay
Featuring: Money Man
Written by: MONEYMAN, JEREMY JONES




OBN Jay - Galore Lyrics




[ Featuring Money Man ]

(You want a drink, Alek, while you wait?)
(Hey, start it back, Tim)

Stackin' up guap like it's art
Go hard, do it again tomorrow
Ruger Five-seveN when it's war
Hoppin' out, presentation galore
I just like to treat my bitch
No time for extra shit
I been on a money trip
Bringin' that lettuce in

Took her shoppin', we just went to Saks
Told her hit the flavor and relax
I just wanna feel you throw it back
Shoppin' with the blick, it's compact
I told JRoc to load them cutters
Up and go'n and spin
He asked me, "Money, when?" Shout out OBN

You know me
I be the youngin on the money trip
Grown man shit, I gotta keep up with myself
I remember bein' mad sittin' up in a cell
But I shoot back
Sittin' next to lifers who ain't makin' bail
Moved from out my city, barely down there
I be outta town
AR clip extended for protection
When I'm movin' 'round
Trippin' on you bitches, yeah
It's up, lately, been droolin' down
Niggas steady hollerin' they up
Next, but shit, lit Rocket now

I was broke inside my mama
Basement with no help
I'm just tryna see some better days
I want some wealth thuggin' with the gang
But really I'm good all by myself
I can't switch up on my bros
It's BC to the death

Stackin' up guap like it's art
Go hard, do it again tomorrow
Ruger Five-seveN when it's war
Hoppin' out, presentation galore
I just like to treat my bitch
No time for extra shit
I been on a money trip
Bringin' that lettuce in

In a foreign, I switched the VIN
Addicted to this money
That shit like my medicine
Havin' accounts and BINs
Got millions, that's for my friends
Got sauce, it come with all the numbers
And include the PIN
Sorry if I ever finessed you
I just wanted to win
Sorry if I ever stressed you
I ain't really mean it
A whole mil' in all blues
She couldn't even believe it
Goin' hard, coppin' sportscars
Takin' trips, we on shroom bars
Antisocial, I don't talk to laws
Fat paper lookin' like Allah
Filipino droppin' off the load
Smash and then I send the bitch home
A hundred large from a fictitious loan
New strain in the air, partner grown
Sometimes I wanna be left alone
I just came and kept shit player
I count this check, a nigga gone
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

[ Correct these Lyrics ]

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(You want a drink, Alek, while you wait?)
(Hey, start it back, Tim)

Stackin' up guap like it's art
Go hard, do it again tomorrow
Ruger Five-seveN when it's war
Hoppin' out, presentation galore
I just like to treat my bitch
No time for extra shit
I been on a money trip
Bringin' that lettuce in

Took her shoppin', we just went to Saks
Told her hit the flavor and relax
I just wanna feel you throw it back
Shoppin' with the blick, it's compact
I told JRoc to load them cutters
Up and go'n and spin
He asked me, "Money, when?" Shout out OBN

You know me
I be the youngin on the money trip
Grown man shit, I gotta keep up with myself
I remember bein' mad sittin' up in a cell
But I shoot back
Sittin' next to lifers who ain't makin' bail
Moved from out my city, barely down there
I be outta town
AR clip extended for protection
When I'm movin' 'round
Trippin' on you bitches, yeah
It's up, lately, been droolin' down
Niggas steady hollerin' they up
Next, but shit, lit Rocket now

I was broke inside my mama
Basement with no help
I'm just tryna see some better days
I want some wealth thuggin' with the gang
But really I'm good all by myself
I can't switch up on my bros
It's BC to the death

Stackin' up guap like it's art
Go hard, do it again tomorrow
Ruger Five-seveN when it's war
Hoppin' out, presentation galore
I just like to treat my bitch
No time for extra shit
I been on a money trip
Bringin' that lettuce in

In a foreign, I switched the VIN
Addicted to this money
That shit like my medicine
Havin' accounts and BINs
Got millions, that's for my friends
Got sauce, it come with all the numbers
And include the PIN
Sorry if I ever finessed you
I just wanted to win
Sorry if I ever stressed you
I ain't really mean it
A whole mil' in all blues
She couldn't even believe it
Goin' hard, coppin' sportscars
Takin' trips, we on shroom bars
Antisocial, I don't talk to laws
Fat paper lookin' like Allah
Filipino droppin' off the load
Smash and then I send the bitch home
A hundred large from a fictitious loan
New strain in the air, partner grown
Sometimes I wanna be left alone
I just came and kept shit player
I count this check, a nigga gone
[ Correct these Lyrics ]
Writer: MONEYMAN, JEREMY JONES
Copyright: Lyrics © Raleigh Music Publishing LLC, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Songtrust Ave

Back to: OBN Jay

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