Precise
Precise

Money Man - Precise Lyrics

7
Precise Music Video

Precise Lyrics

(Taylor Michael, you goin' crazy)
(Trauma Tone)

Yeah
She got that body I like
Sent her a ticket, now she on a flight
She hop off the plane, then she come get the pipe
Scammin', made 50K just in one night
The next day, I spent that shit all on some ice
When I weigh up a turkey bag, it be precise
She wanna motherfuckin' kick it
Come on, let's fuck in the kitchen
In the Beverly Center, I'm drippin'

Yeah, yeah, just dropped her off, now she already miss me
I'm never naked, I'm keepin' a glizzy
Ballin' just like the brothers over at Disney
She throw it back on me just like a Frisbee
She throw it back so good, I bought her Fendi
Her take a Perc' 'cause she gon' show her cleavage
Took me some plastic just to swipe in Cleveland
Niggas gon' hate, they even hated Jesus
I was just four-fourin' in some Yeezys
I just copped the roof, five-seven, no kiddin', yeah
Fastin' all night, I'm dizzy, yeah
Bae, I just want your kitty, yeah
I just want motherfuckin' digits, yeah
Every strain a nigga burnin' top notch
Lookin' at the time on the AP bustdown stopwatch
Nigga, I'm the reason why the block hot
I done put the CashApp card in every (?) mailbox
If I get locked up, I'm runnin' my cell block
I'ma lay the wood down, I'ma make her bed rock
I'ma keep twins with me, two FNs with me
Niggas know I'm stayin' on point special, dealin' with me
Sellin' these dimes out a house in Peachtree city
I just copped a Lamborghini, I ain't want the 550
Sold a Q, yeah, the trap five for the nine-fifty
That is not Za on your page, it is not sticky
You ain't never spin shit, nigga, you are not drillin'
We ain't worried 'bout his lil' bankroll, we got millions
We ain't worried 'bout a lil' car that you postin' on the 'Gram, nigga
We just cashed out on two Lambs
Petty-ass nigga tryna show a nigga three grams
Have my shooter comin' off the bench with a stick like Lou Will, nigga, he the sixth man

Sent her a ticket, now she on a flight
She hop off the plane, then she come get the pipe
Scammin', made 50K just in one night
The next day, I spent that shit all on some ice
When I weigh up a turkey bag, it be precise
She wanna motherfuckin' kick it
Come on, let's fuck in the kitchen

Writer(s): Tysen Jay Boulding
Copyright(s): Lyrics © EMPIRE PUBLISHING
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind

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