NEW MONEY
Lyrics
Mind so dark got the car on park
The four-five gone bark aint no back and forth
Vacuum seal the pack send it to New York
I say fuck the judge I ain't go to court
When It come to trap treat it like a sport
I was ye high when I jumped the porched
I hopped into the Porsche
360 them revolving doors
Talking crazy like fuck the chorus
Run your city like a fucking tourist
We the ones to survive the storm
Like this watch, so I chopped his arm
Make him snooze, like we hit the alarm
My bitch trying to make a porn
New head, now the bitch is blonde
Look away, now your bitch is gone
Maison Margiela my watch and my sneakers
I hit the bitch, tell her a la vista
I'm sipping on Easter
We said it off like Queen Latifa
I was outside, you was playing FIFA
Now a days I really ain't doing features
My bitch is bi, I'm going to the bitch make eat you
Trust him and nigga like fucking Batistsa
New money who this
I'm a teach these niggas how to do it
Might as well say you my students
Bitch you dumb is you stupid
She wants to have sex to my music
I hit her from the back, she says it's therapeutic
She says her ex is a lame she sees him last week
He was driving a Buick
Got backwoods, fronto leaf, chop it down
Smoke a tree, overseas, kissing bitches
Double cheek, double tree, matches me
Crashing bitches leave them on the seats
Pop Molly I'm about to geek
Kill a nigga mission complete
I'm too street for the industry
I'm too player for a groupie hoe
Fuck a bitch at the studio
Had her sippin Don Julio
She says she don't chase liquor
Had her hanging on my fucking zipper
When I'm done, I pass her pass to my nigga
Switch up who with it
I know this bitch with it
Told her let get it
I'm a grab her titty
Hold up a little bitch,
You going to give me a minute
I'm a hit him off like I'm mother fucking Dennis
Driving them foreign, them bitches is running
Fresh in the drugs, I know they're fronting
My pinky ran that shit look like a funyuns
She wants to work out, I took her to run yea
If you want beef, tell that nigga let you run it
I promise you he won't make it past the Summer
New money who this
I'm a teach these niggas how to do it
Might as well say you my students
Bitch you dumb is you stupid
She wants to have sex to my music
I hit her from the back, she says it therapeutic
She says her ex is a lame she sees him last week
He was driving a Buick
Writer(s): John Santana
Copyright(s): Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
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