In a world dominated by materialism and power, Money Man uses his lyrical prowess to paint a vivid picture of his lifestyle. The song is an homage to the late basketball legend, Kobe Bryant, symbolizing the artist's relentless pursuit of success. Throughout the track, he delves into his hustler mentality, emphasizing his ability to make substantial amounts of money in short periods. He also explores themes of street credibility and technological savvy, highlighting his use of VPNs and multiple routers – tools typically associated with cybercrime. Yet, beneath the braggadocio lies a man deeply committed to his family and fiercely protective of what he's earned. It's a raw reflection on survival in an unforgiving world where only the fittest thrive. #HustleHard #StreetSurvival
24
Lyrics
(Yo, Nflated, spice that bitch up)
Burnin' on Lilikoi, ashes look corduroy
R.i.p. Kobe Bryant, R.I.p. 24
I can make a cool 50K in less than twenty-four hours
Ridin' with the pack through the Tennessee mountains
Vpn, SOCKS, and at least three routers
I'm thumbin' through it, I don't need no counter
Had to resuscitate a bitch, my neck almost drowned her
I got oil, I got hemp, I wax, I got flower
Burnin' on pre-roll, finna go to Pluto
Drippin' real hard when I'm hoppin' out two-door
I just met a psychedelic plug named Hugo
Thirty laptops in my motherfuckin' condo
White collar got a nigga ballin' like Lonzo
These niggas overrated like Joe Flacco
Feelin' like Jim Jones, nigga, I'm a capo
I'ma flip the road route, feelin' like Pop Smoke
Banana cream cake in my motherfuckin' headwrap
If I don't like the smell, then the pack get sent back
If I don't like his energy, I push a nigga shit back
Megan had us all listenin' to Bagg, big facts
Megan has us all listenin' to stream, big facts
All that slick talkin' finna get a nigga kidnapped
Just in, gotta FN, finna go and liftoff
I'ma empty out the magazine when I'm pissed off
I'm on that Wedding Pie, it got me geeked
My bitch hit it twice and then she went to sleep
I drop bud on the clock with the perfect technique
I'ma hit it from the rear, I wan' grab her obliques
I ain't got time in the day for my females be mad at me
Internet racks, I'ma run it up rapidly
She know I'm vicious, I'm fuckin' her savagely
She know I get racks, she know my mentality
Grew up in the trap watching Kobe yam on a nigga
Pull up in the Porsche, yeah, the Pan' on a nigga, yeah
Pull in a dodge, yeah, the Ram on a nigga
Anybody try, yeah, I'ma blam on niggas
I'm the bad guy, fifty different grid lines
Turn a lacefront to a fire, fire hairline
I was over drippin', I should start my own clothing line
Got two jits, dawg, I'll die for both of mine
I ain't never satisfied 'til my money increase
Fucked up the profile, too many inquiries
They be low-key hatin', I can hear 'em whispering
All these baguette chains, you can see 'em glimmering
Had to make a U-turn, I just seen a roadblock
I ain't playin' no games, I ain't sparin no opps
It's a full moon now, so I'm burnin' Moon Rock
Livin' off schemes, why is he on tip top?
Burnin' on Lilikoi, ashes look corduroy
R.i.p. Kobe Bryant, R.I.p. 24
I can make a cool 50K in less than twenty-four hours
Ridin' with the pack through the Tennessee mountains
Vpn, SOCKS, and at least three routers
I'm thumbin' through it, I don't need no counter
Had to resuscitate a bitch, my neck almost drowned her
I got oil, I got hemp, I wax, I got flower
Burnin' on pre-roll, finna go to Pluto
Drippin' real hard when I'm hoppin' out two-door
I just met a psychedelic plug named Hugo
Thirty laptops in my motherfuckin' condo
White collar got a nigga ballin' like Lonzo
These niggas overrated like Joe Flacco
Feelin' like Jim Jones, nigga, I'm a capo
I'ma flip the road route, feelin' like Pop Smoke
Writer(s): Tysen Jay Bolding
Copyright(s): Lyrics © TuneCore Inc., The Administration MP, Inc., Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Warner Chappell Music, Inc., EMPIRE PUBLISHING
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
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