TP Video (MV)

Soon as TP hit, I cap a hundred and re-up again
I don't give a damn if she f*ckin' the opps, chop still droppin' the pin
I tote a big ol' chop with a big ol' block, lil' shaka, he keepin' a cig
Yeah, I'm f*ckin' up bands, yeah, I'm f*ckin' up bands
Yeah, I'm servin' the grounds, yeah, I'm servin' the grounds
I came up servin' the yams, I make the corners, still tryin' to f*ck up the machines
Sooner the TP land, I walk a sack, cap a hundred, then f*ck up a check on some
I can't get high on the green, stuff in the money machine when I pour up the trish
I stuck my wrist in the pot, I gave my tester a piece and he said it was grease
Bad bitch come from Belize, she in the spot when I'm jugging the P
She in the spot when I'm countin' up the cheese
Cash rule everything around me, I fell in love with the cream
Bought a Rolex off the cream, shots in the bezel, it look like cream
I'm servin' three on the three, yeah, I got a plug on the three, yeah
I got a plug on the team, huh, how far you goin' to meet him
How far you comin' to get him? I drop a hundred off every hour that you drive
Condo 1.5, yeah, I used to trap on the drive, yeah, I used to trap on the brick
That bitch from Belize, I'm bustin' the wrist, escalade in the driveway, fit over fit
I'm dialin' these hoes like Vick, I spend a ten on the fit
I blew a ten in the rap money, now I'm covered in drip
That nigga tried to run off with the trap money, nigga, I put a ten on his wig
F*ck the DA, they need to free trap money, I f*ck with niggas like twins
So many Cuban Links on one arm, yeah, my left wrist feel like a slave
I got some niggas that can't make bonds, free all the drug boys locked in the cage
Little bitty bitch better bring my money on, told the G5 where the hun done
I put a quarter ticket on my wrist, I flooded my neck, oh no, another 300 done
Hold up your wrist if it look like this, put the bitch on the grist, now she goin' dumb, dumb
Hold up your wrist if it look like this, put the bitch on the grist, now she goin' dumb, dumb
Soon as the TP hit, I cap a hundred and re-up again
I don't give a damn if she f*ckin' an opp, chop still dropping the pin
I tote a big ol' chop with a big ol' block, lil' shaka, he keepin' a cig
Yeah, I'm f*ckin' up bands, yeah, I'm f*ckin' up bands
Yeah, I'm servin' the grounds, yeah, I'm servin' the grounds
I came up servin' the yams, I made the corners, still tryin' to f*ck up the machines
Soon as the TP land, I walk in saks, cap a hundred, then f*ck up a check on somebody
I can't get high on the green, stuff in the money machine when I pour up the Trish
I stubbed my wrist in the pot, I gave my tester a piece and he said it was grease
Fat bitch come from Belize, she in the spot when I'm juggin' the P
She in the spot when I'm countin' up the cheese
Cash rule everything around me, I fell in love with the cream
TP land, cap a hundred, twelve hundred on Chanel runners for my bitch
Chalk go four, five, six, load up the bank, I ain't pickin' up shit
Roll up the dank, I ain't smokin' no turd weed, nigga, bet not spray my shit
I put a trackhawk Jeep on forgies, shot out Willie Moe, I sent a blitz
Shot out Pluto, skeet, I put the bitch on a stick, now she suckin' the D
Bitch, you ain't never suck a dick like this
Quarter ticket, I just cut her my wrist
I could've been signed a deal, but I made that shit in one year, sellin' the blue
Nigga was sleep on hect, schnooze
Now when I come through, I light up the room
Chanel bag match my bitch shoe
Political stick, come through like, fff
Big drug on top of the brick like, fff
Yeah, I take a nine out of brick like, fff
Yeah, I'm correct this spot with a switch like, fff
Yeah, I'm goin' up like the clock said noon