Oh My Goodness
Oh My Goodness

Chief Keef - Oh My Goodness Lyrics

3
Oh My Goodness Music Video

Oh My Goodness Lyrics

I got racks up in my pocket, racks up in my pocket (ayy)
I got thots all in my phone callin' me, bitch stop it (bang, bang, bang)
Fourteen hundred for this belt, this ain't no damn Versace (ISO) (skrrt, skrrt)
Bang (ooh wee, it's Oh!Zone on the beat)
Bang, bang, bang, bang
Ayy, ayy, ayy
Yeah
Four nickels, got them racks, got them sacks, them stacks
Them rolls, them hoes, them clothes
Glo Gang
Know how we rockin' like cut-off stockings
Keep kush in our pockets

I got racks up in my pocket, racks up in my pocket (bang)
I got thots all in my phone callin' me, bitch, stop it
Fourteen hunnid for this belt, this ain't no damn Versace
And I'm smokin' on this dope, my hobby gettin' money
I count money like a pro, you know that I done done it
Twenties, fifties, hundreds, bitch, I'm stuntin'
Fifties, hundreds, twenties, oh my goodness
I need my money machine to count this lil' shit for me

I be flexin' on niggas, just coolin' (flexin', flexin')
I got my niggas, my money, my toolie (need my money and my toolie)
I got my cars, my house and my jewelry (yes, man)
Flexin' on niggas, I ain't worried (I ain't worried 'bout a thing)
Smokin' Tooka to the head (Tooka to the head)
Come through shoot ya then ya dead (come through shoot ya then ya dead)
I'm gettin' money, fuck the feds (I'm gettin' money, fuck the feds)
And I'm Glo Gang, what is this? (And I'm Glo Gang, what is this?)
That's my shit, you lil' bitch (that's my shit, you lil' bitch)
Let's get rich, you lil' bitch (let's get rich, you lil' bitch)
Get off my dick, you lil' bitch (get off my dick, you lil' bitch)
And go get you a brick (and go get you a brick)
Smokin' Tutu, this my oxygen (smokin' Tutu)
Too much damn Tutu, where my car keys, man? (Too much damn Tutu)
Countin' rolls like a boxer, man (countin' rolls)
Ya know that I'm the man (ya know it)

I got racks up in my pocket, racks up in my pocket
I got thots all in my phone callin' me, bitch, stop it
Fourteen hunned for this belt, this ain't no damn versace
And I'm smokin' on this dope, my hobby gettin' money
I count money like a pro, you know that I done done it
Twenties, fifties, hundreds, bitch, I'm stuntin'
Fifties, hundreds, twenties, oh my goodness
I need my money machine to count this lil' shit for me

Money machine go, "Beep, beep"
Hop in my car, skrrt-skrrt-skrrt, dudu-dudu-dudu, beep-beep
All these fuck-boys wanna be me
His bitch let me fuck 'cause I got racks, so I hit it like bang-bang, skeet-skeet
Tatted up like fuck, yeah
Money tatted on my mind, yeah
.30 tatted on my gun, yeah
It's time to have fun, yeah
His bitch say she wanna fuck me
She really wanna fuck with money
Thought that I ain't know
She thought that I was a dummy
Told her save that shit
Baby, you on that lame ass shit, I don't play that shit

I got racks up in my pocket, racks up in my pocket
I got thots all in my phone callin' me, bitch, stop it
Fourteen hunnid for this belt, this ain't no damn Versace
And I'm smokin' on this dope, my hobby gettin' money
I count money like a pro, you know that I done done it
Twenties, fifties, hundreds, bitch, I'm stuntin'
Fifties, hundreds, twenties, oh my goodness
I need my money machine to count this lil' shit for me

Writer(s): Keith Cozart, Tyson Reed, Kyle Emordi
Copyright(s): Lyrics © The Administration MP, Inc., Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind

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