Blood All On It
Lyrics
(Let the BandPlay)
Yeah, yeah, uh, yeah, uh, yeah, uh
Okay
Ayy
Cash out if I want it (for real, though)
The money got blood all on it (for real, though)
The money got blood all on it, yeah
The money got blood all on it (for real, though)
Bad bitches with me only (for real, though)
The nigga wanna be me, don't it?
But the money got blood all on it
Yeah, the money got blood all on it (hey)
My young niggas ready to shoot (damn)
'Cause they ain't got nothin' to lose (damn)
He said, it's fuck everybody and fuck everything
He got somethin' to prove (damn)
In the trenches pullin' moves (got 'em)
A hundred racks in blues (Franks)
In a shoebox, hell nah, them ain't no motherfuckin' shoes (racks)
(Ayy, what you do, nigga?)
Took the motor out a 'Vette, put it in a Chevelle (switch it up)
Do my dirt all by myself 'cause these niggas gon' tell (I swear)
She look like God sent her from Heaven, but she fine as hell (bad)
I'm sendin' strong to five states, mane, I just broke my scale (uh)
Lil' cous' just caught a murder charge and I just post his bail (yeah)
Doing donuts in a 'Rari, I'm a major player (skrrt)
Send bags to the hood and to the opps, I sent some shells (yeah)
Never talk on the phone and never leave a paper trail
Super bad bitch with a body like Buffy (whoa)
Went to see my jeweler, spent a million like it's nothin' (a million)
I got on too much ice, she caught the flu when she fuck me (uh)
Plain Jane Richard Mille, I told my jeweler, "Bust it"
Cash out if I want it (for real, though)
The money got blood all on it (for real, though)
The money got blood all on it, yeah
The money got blood all on it (for real, though)
Bad bitches with me only (for real, though)
These niggas wanna be me, don't it?
But the money got blood all on it
Yeah, the money got blood all on it (hey)
My young niggas ready to shoot (damn)
'Cause they ain't got nothin' to lose (damn) (nah)
He said, it's fuck everybody and fuck everything
He got somethin' to prove (damn) (fuck 'em)
In the trenches, pullin' moves (got 'em)
A hundred racks in blues (Franks)
In a shoebox, hell nah, them ain't no motherfuckin' shoes (racks)
At a top, where it get real lonely
Just might put a dub on homie
New Phantom with the Forgis on it (Forgis)
And the paint got blood all on it (ah)
These niggas ain't eatin', they starvin' (nah)
I can see 'cause they crew gettin' boney (boney)
These suckas do nothing but clout-chase
These boys just some one-trick ponies (pussies)
Man, this rap game so damn phony
These niggas a bunch of Jabronies (hoes)
Everything you got, they want it
That's why I'm stiff, I'm stoney (stiff)
Just told my hitter, he on it
Nigga better break fast like Shoney's
And I got my bag like Tony
These niggas wanna clone me, don't it? (Huh)
I went from ridin' in a V12
Switched it up and now my motor electric (switched it up)
I stacked up way more millions than haters expected
You gotta shoot for your respect
That's how you send a message (paow, paow)
You gotta do what you gotta do to keep family protected (it's Gucci)
Cash out when I wanna, yeah
These bitches know how I'm comin', yeah (ah)
These niggas know how I'm comin', yeah
The bitches know how I'm comin'
(Why they call you Tony?)
'Cause I pop shit by my lonely
Pocket full of Crip, blue hunnids, yeah
Money got blood all on it (yeah, yeah)
Uh, yeah, I'm the one, not the two (two)
I turn a one to a two (two)
I'm havin' racks, yeah, I got the bag, yeah
I put the bag on you, you (you)
I put the bag on you too
Inside my Hellcat ragù
I'm goin' nuts, I keep me a tool (yeah)
They like this young nigga a loose screw
Yeah (loco)
Took the doors off my McLaren, put it on my Urus, ayy
Don't compare me to no rapper 'cause these niggas weird, ayy
They done pissed me off, it's codeine all up in my urine, ayy (Wock', Wock')
When it come to shootin' shit, my jumper be the purest
Cash out if I want it (bitch, for real, though)
The money got blood all on it (yeah, for real, though)
The money got blood all on it, yeah
The money got blood all on it (yeah, for real, though)
Bad bitches with me only (for real, though)
These niggas wanna be me, don't it? (Ha)
But the money got blood all on it
Yeah, the money got blood all on it (yeah, yeah)
My young niggas ready to shoot (damn)
'Cause they ain't got nothin' to lose (damn)
He said, it's fuck everybody and fuck everything
He got somethin' to prove (damn)
In the trenches pullin' moves (got 'em)
A hundred racks in blues (Franks)
In a shoebox, hell nah, them ain't no motherfuckin' shoes (racks)
Writer(s): Brandon Bradley, Krishon O'brien Gaines, Markeyvius Cathey, Radric Davis
Copyright(s): Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, DOUGH MENTALITY GROUP, EMPIRE PUBLISHING
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
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