Money is not everything, it´s the only thing (It´s a Wayne beat) (Elijah, not another one) (His name´s Pablo!)
Five racks on a fit, bitch, I act stupid Veeze in a green Brabus, look like a crab moving Got the bitch sucking dick, while her ass moving Beat a C.O. bitch down and send a rack to her On some bullshit, I done got into some rap war Bring your dogshit out, let´s have a rap war I might buy a ´Rari truck before we start the tour I´m with them one niggas, the letter start with four Supreme forces, three hundred, sweater cost four That´s forty-three hundred on some shit that I barely wore He just shot you in the leg, bro, you barely sore I´m paranoid, answer the phone in my scary voice Back in 2013, we was the Larry Boys Four karats each ear, them Lil Jerry boys If you ain´t tryna drop shit, then what you said it for?
Bitch, I´m rich now and I would not cap, that´s what I said it for You can´t compare your man to me, he very poor Mix the Tris with the Quagen, that´s very demure I seen a nigga get his shit pushed back, I´m paranoid We run from the state police, we call them cherry boys Hit a left, then a right, there we never was Baby Ghost a demon, he will not spare you in the club I pulled off on my big bro and left him with a dub I´m on my own shit, I swear I´m tired of helping niggas up Seventy racks left wrist, I just got out of prison I keep it real, the bustdown ain´t mine, Jerry left it with me
I´m with my nephew Jaire, Sharon left him with me I got a hundred in the clip, but spare a nigga fifty KB got that trigger thang, share it ´til it´s empty It´s fucked up, they tried to get a Biggie Bag, I left at Wendy´s Bottle cap Balenci´ belt, it was eleven-fifty Like, how we talkin´ ´bout some shit that I never mentioned? You niggas can just dress better than me, was never better than me I might pop out in my city with a letter with me That´s a whole M, hopping out the ´Rari truck with the chrome Timbs Real business man, nigga, you would never hit me Said my phone dead, matter fact, where the fuck my other phone at?
Nigga, I got pussy when I was in jail, wasn´t no phone sex And I paid the bitch to bring me a pint of old red You ain´t got more money than me, fucking bonehead We just dropped an eight, but you could never tell ´cause it´s a Code Red Yeah, you really killed a tour, your shows was dead Kidnap him, make him shoot himself in his own forehead I done drunk so much drank, feel like an old man Zero miles on a Maybach, it got flowed in, it got towed in Probably in the ´Raq, with a switch on me, in the Low End