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letra de street visions - cookie money

[intro]
ayy, young jay, you made this?

[verse 1]
you ain’t a shooter, you don’t put n-ggas in bodybags
play with cook, i’m in your mirror like i’m candy man
chopper bullets make him tumble like an avalanche
dead on arrival, he don’t even need an ambulance
i’m low-key smokin’ weed in a caravan
thirty for a brick, i ain’t never goin’ broke again
love for no b-tch, i can never trust a ho again
d-mn, i miss my dawg, i’ll never see my bro again (rest in peace)
pourin’ fours in my cup, f-ckin’ up my kidney
n-ggas sellin’ bobby brown, n-ggas sold on whitney
gettin’ money, rockin’ ice, smokin’ dope in benzes
i ain’t doin it for the ‘gram, i’m really ’bout my business
n-ggas sittin’ on they -ss, all about these b-tches
get the bands out the trap and make it out them trenches
lost it all and got it back, this sh-t really in me
n-ggas talk behind my back, i can peep the envy
up in barneys blowin’ racks, h-lla gucci, fendi
b-tch, it cost four zips for these new balencis
i could make a hundred stacks in these new amiris
throw it out and get it back like i’m playin’ frisbee

[chorus]
these n-ggas said that they with me, i know they lyin’, though
sucker said they gon’ get me but i ain’t hidin’, though
they can’t stop me from scorin’, i’m like lebron on ’em
steve urkel -ss n-ggas, i’m stephen on ’em
long money for wars, not just for rollies, boy
you ain’t stackin’ no trophies, then what you grindin’ for?
yeah, you call him your homie, but you ain’t slidin’ for him
yeah, you sayin’ f-ck the opps but they ain’t dyin’ for him

[verse 2]
suckers say they gon’ get me but i ain’t hidin’ on ’em
’cause b-tch, i’m clutchin’ this fifty, i’m bustin’ fire on ’em
n-ggas stuck in the streets, i done retired on ’em
i ain’t f-ckin’ these b-tches, i done got tired of ’em
bustdown baby, i whipped a whole nine for you
trap goin’ crazy, i split the whole pie with you
fed a lot of n-ggas and it only made ’em disloyal
trust’ll get you k!lled, if you slip, they gon’ really murk you
runnin’ laps in the field, jumpin’ over hurdles
n-ggas lookin’ up to rats, call ’em ninja turtles
i can flip a hundred packs, started sellin’ purple
b-tch it’s only for the family, my lil’ cosa nostra
i’m an east oakland legend, do it for the culture
if you eat but don’t hunt, you a f-ckin’ vulture
it be snakes in the gr-ss and you call ’em brothers
hoes f-ckin’ everybody but they still love ’em

- cookie money

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