letra de amigos rico - tay b
[intro: baby money]
(coach me, joey)
yeah
(d-mn, e, this a classic)
easy money
ayy
[verse 1: baby money]
on the twenty-seventh floor, feet up, i’m just loungin’
all this money in the room, i can’t move, we gotta count it
see i drip in alexander mcqueen, i need a fountain (yeah)
thirty in jewels, we really get it out the mountains
[verse 2]
broke down a bale, i bought a p, ain’t even have a beam
compress the sh-t, slide to the hood, drop off a bag and leave
yeah, i smoke rapper weed, that sh-t that trappers need
ayy, we the reason n-ggas say that they got cali weed
[verse 3: baby money]
yeah, pull the handle on the box, look like a slot machine
spent so much cheese inside of saks, they say i had to leave
the wrist a half a key, got blues like master p
[verse 4]
land on my property, you gettin’ taxed like monopoly
n-ggas said they on my head, but they ain’t stoppin’ me
we gon’ slide with them sticks like a hockey team
i don’t want your b-tch, boy, i”m out her league
i ain’t beefin’ with no n-ggas that ain’t got no cheese
[verse 5: cash kidd]
yeah, let the chopper sing like you sob
make you walk on sh-lls like you at the beach
if i see 12, i get low like i’m j-panese
big bullets from the drac’ hit you back to back like meek
[verse 6]
ayy, colin kaepernick, i shoot the drac’ while i’m on one knee
b-tch, you a rat, you ain’t f-ckin’ with my little niece
i’ll put three hundred on your head, but i ain’t lil reese
blowin’ money fast every day, i ain’t lil meech
[verse 7]
yeah, big a got me snorin’
yeah, hard to f-ck in the morning
yeah, i’m in love with blues like i’m corbin
kits, you can’t afford them, b-tches, yeah, they foreign
all my hoes, i spoil ’em, countries, i explore ’em
yeah, just fronted my junkie, he’ll be back in the morning
got ’em for the nineteen, came back for the jordan
b-tch, i’m so important, ‘bows get imported
[verse 8]
alex mcqueen scarf around my head like i’m taliban
yeah, we gon’ slide, hop out on ’em, pull around again
i f-ck around and take a hit ‘fore i be down again
all my n-ggas ’bout they pape’, n0body ’round me playin’
[verse 9: baby money]
yeah, the first shot gon’ knock him off, no need for ambulance
all this ice around the clique look like an avalanche
hundred choppers in the crib, feel like it’s pakistan
[verse 10: pretty brayah]
put this p-ssy on your n-gga, he’ll be back again
stupid b-tch, what the f-ck you sayin’?
b-tch, f-ck smackin’ you, i’ll smack your man
man, f-ck mappin’ out, we ain’t got a plan
we throw money in them clubs, we ain’t gotta dance
i think it’s water in y’all veins, don’t think you b-tches bleed
and how the f-ck you b-tches loyal but be switchin’ teams?
your n-gga wishin’ he can f-ck, i got him chasin’ dreams
i think these n-ggas only talk because the sh-t is free
i dare you name another b-tch who really sit with me
you step to four, we knock you low and you get hit with three
i have your daddy give me dome while i smoke this tree
might let your mama eat my ass, b-tch, mil’ on me
letras aleatórias
- letra de the pp song - glasshead
- letra de comfort inside you - alexander magnus gregori
- letra de cid carvalho - felipe nazário
- letra de i - ichika
- letra de meet me when this rain stops - sogumm, dj wegun
- letra de crazy blues - sissle & blake
- letra de autumn nights - waste.
- letra de doujin addict - akai nights
- letra de all that* - chance the rapper
- letra de staring at the sky - nyhla