Yeah
Oh, oh, oh
Oh, woah, woah
Yeah, yeah, yeah
Oh
If he talk down, pull up with sticks
Money huge, b#tch, my money big
I ain’t gay but my Glock got a dick
Don’t give a f#ck, still love that b#tch
Gettin’ bands, yeah I’m stackin’ my chips
They gon’ ride on the wave like a ship
Coppin’ Truey, you know I got drip
Aim with the Glock 22, it don’t miss
Woah
Count the cash, I might go and spend it all
Woah
50 bands gone when I’m walkin’ out the mall
I might pull up in a brand new Benz
No handouts, you ain’t my friend
Hear ’em talkin’ sh#t, make sure he dead
If he pull up, send some shots to the head
I been makin’ racks, don’t know how to spend
I just made a hit, went did it again
I be countin’ 100s, you bе countin’ 10s
V12 in a Lambo, don’t know where I went
Pull up, Glock go (Bow, bow, bow!)
Imma pull up, shoot ‘еm down
Don’t pull up, no Haunted Mound
Drop my racks, they gon’ shake the ground
Load up the chop’, drum hold 30 rounds
Withdraw 100 racks, then I’m out
No UK, these racks weigh some pounds
Pull up with a MAC if you talk down
Hold up
I just pulled up in a Rolls truck
If you talk down, we gon’ pull up
Like I’m Yeat, lil b#tch, I’m so up
If he talk down, pull up with sticks
Money huge, b#tch, my money big
I ain’t gay but my Glock got a dick
Don’t give a f#ck, still love that b#tch
Gettin’ bands, yeah I’m stackin’ my chips
They gon’ ride on the wave like a ship
Coppin’ Truey, you know I got drip
Aim with the Glock 22, it don’t miss
Find more lyrics at westlyrics.com
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