I dont rack stacks i got pocket change drug money is whack,
Pouring liquor for my niggas that was killed, send em back
I heard that time is money
Than the muse of a family
Well guess what, i probably got more money than your lousy ass
So while she up in vip pourin' merlot in the glass
I got money mind and money on my wrist
How they stand there, cuffed up, patient
It's fucking immaculate, the way your daughter smacking dicks
But its funny i got more money them then niggahs claiming they got bricks
That's why i talk about money and what i got, and you ain't even know it,
Every time i walk inside the house, she always tend to start shit
But every other part of you make me wanna depart and
Yelling "yo look at my money, i got stacks in the bank!"
When i arrive the whole town gets sunny
I don't got no money, adolescent currency
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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