BANK SLIP
Lyrics
Dime sack in the pocket, ah ah
Ten pennies for the gossip, ah ah
Freestyle a couple topics, ok
Bank slip, lemme make these deposits
Looking at these posers, they all washed up, chopped up
I'm like Ryan Leaf, but I ain't locked up, bet that
Shawty feeling sweet like I'm chocolate, I topped it
Playing for the team, but you bet that I don't sweat that
Hard drive, new rhymes, second semester
I'm like Lil Baby goin' harder than ever
Cheez-It's in my mouth, but my mind on the cheddar
She be Maradona way she giving these headers
Rub my Buddha for good luck but the boy don't really need it
Man, fuck my old music cuz this shit gon' supersede it
They call me Steve Nash, MVP, I'm gon' repeat it
She call me White Zeke cuz the boy just out here eatin'
I'm just warming up, I ain't even seen my ceiling
I just smoked a couple so I'm chillin' by the ceiling
Last time I checked, I got streams in New Zealand
And every girl I meet gon' be stuck in her feelings
Dime sack in the pocket, ah ah
Ten pennies for the gossip, ah ah
Freestyle a couple topics, ok
Bank slip, lemme make these deposits
New stack, they be burnin' my pockets
Jackie Moon, I done hoop like the Tropics
And I work, know the stu is the office
I heard your tape dawg, you still a novice
Get the bag, like it's deep in the closet
She be sucking dick like your brother in the closet
I be Axe Cap way I'm seeking these profits
And I keep it straight, I ain't catching that audit
I be Patty Mahomes, light you up, I'm in the zone
And she hitting my phone, Imma make her hold the moan
I be throwing stones while your house still getting blown
And I just hit the plug, dropped the weed of with a drone
I just passed my class, and then I fucked your mama
Droppin' bombs, like I'm Osama
Making 44, call me Obama
I see future me stacking these commas
Dime sack in the pocket, ah ah
Ten pennies for the gossip, ah ah
Freestyle a couple topics, ok
Bank slip, lemme make these deposits
Bank slip, lemme make these deposits
I be, uh, thinking 'bout the profits
And I'm, feeling like a profit, Muhammad
But you can't really document my image either, bitch
Cuz fuck you, I don't wanna get fired from my job
Working 95, nine-to-five, I think
Whatever that shit is, yeah, aye
Writer(s): Austin Druse
Copyright(s): Lyrics © DistroKid
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
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