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Mario Oh Lord, Jetson made another one I hop in the coupe and I'm whippin' it fast I'm on the way to go get me a bag Bitch, I'm the passenger, you know she bad She got my extras, I'm angry, mad They belong in a barrel, these niggas be crabs Run off with a pack and get shot in the ass We in the trap, we don't listen to jazz That nigga too soft, I ain't tryna collab Three different flavors, come purchase some bud Download my tape, I might show you some love Too many plays, I can't go to the club Too many plays, I can't drop me an album I know Saks Fifth, you gotta buy volume When I light up my blunt, this shit turn into volume Cash out with me, you can get a good value Fresh off the lot, you should pay me to style you She not a horse but she look like a stallion Questioning shit, you just kept the medallion Sewed up the hood, niggas heavily banging Come with that rocket ship, niggas is dying Bit on my face so I look like a lion She backin' up on my dick and she grinding SongtexteGive me two million or I'm never signing All the designer, I should be a stylist That ho you cuff, she got too much mileage I'm on the plane with the pack in the private I'm burning on loud, nigga, far from quiet Everybody got sticks, nigga, why would you try it? Got my money big feelin', that shit be giant I don't wanna conversate, I want vagina I build me a bitch like we a science I grow my own food, I'm self-reliant Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah Push up on me, I'ma blow you away Treat a ho like a pistol and throw her away The pack came late, it had to delay Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah She sexy as hell, she bad as fuck She know my ex-bitch mad as fuck I bust down a bale and bag it up Beep, beep, beep, beep Just like a truck, she back it up These niggas used to laugh at us Now they wanna make songs and rap with us Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah I grab me a pound and bag it up Heard your lil' song, it's wack as fuck I get them racks and stack 'em up I got racks, I keep racks, I got racks, racks, racks I keep young niggas with me and they keep straps, that's no cap I'm with Money Man, I got rubber bands and they bustin' out my pants Flight to Miami, when I land I got gunners, they got sticks in hand Hot just like a sauna, man Never leave my brother, shit get ugly, I can't take the stand I ain't talkin' on the phone, you want a P, you know the fee Wrist cold like the sea, Eskimo, 1017 My son got Gucci carseat, my bitch in love with Birkin B I'm the boss, they work for me They say talk is cheap, but if I'm talkin', ain't talkin' cheap My whole hood bettin' on me I got racks on me, I keep racks on me Nigga wanna know the rest, then bitch, get in your bag I hop in the coupe and I'm whippin' it fast I'm on the way to go get me a bag Bitch, I'm the passenger, you know she bad She got my extras, I'm angry, mad They belong in a barrel, these niggas be crabs Run off with a pack and get shot in the ass We in the trap, we don't listen to jazz That nigga too soft, I ain't tryna collab Three different flavors, come purchase some bud Download my tape, I might show you some love Too many plays, I can't go to the club Too many plays, I can't drop me an album I know Saks Fifth, you gotta buy volume When I light up my blunt, this shit turn into volume Cash out with me, you can get a good value Fresh off the lot, you should pay me to style you Aus Songtexte Mania