Payroll
Lyrics
Backend all hundreds, they know how I want it
When we slide all choppers, they know how I'm coming
Tried to hide at his mama's, ain't no hidin' from it
Sent you a picture of her house, like come outside dummy
(Hit-Boy)
Spray on cologne (what's that?)
That's eleven hundred (okay)
The shoe on my feet, a pound of Runtz, Dior runners (woo)
My whole 'fit cost about ten bands
All together 60 racks, I got 50 in my pants
I, looked up to Payroll growin' up, lil' bitch I'm from the D
Played with that yayo growin' up, lil' bitch I'm from the streets
Lil' bro be bangin' and you know how my lil' nigga bleed
Put on that mask, knock on your door, this ain't no trick or treat
Them niggas out here broke, I promise I don't feel sorry
You ain't show up on no money but you showed up to the party (bankrolls)
Broke ass niggas, I don't feel sorry for you
Bread legally retarded, every month that boy get money, ay
Can't let no hoe get in my head 'cause ain't no hoe in me
Ay, get the fuck out asap when you get off your knees
In Miami, me and Zoey on them skis
We ain't out here havin' fun, we out here lookin' for some ki's, nigga
I heard they floatin' 'round them water, had to come and see (I did)
Clean nigga in every way but I got dirty piece (smoke)
Nigga owe me, make 'em roll and he gon' work for free (on gang)
You cut me off, it hurt but you hurt yourself more than me (bitch)
Niggas praise and respect too much hoe shit (too much hoe shit)
He too friendly with the opps, get 'em both zip (get 'em both)
Hot nigga, keep a cold bitch, froze wrist
Granny called like, "You on the news", I'm like, "Oh shit"
Let me hit that shit, now you can say you fucked a killer bitch (bitch)
They ain't with us, they against us, fuck them niggas bitch (fuck 'em)
Jumpin' out the Benz truck with the cutter nigga (grrra)
'Cause every day it's a new reason not to trust these niggas
Ain't nobody gettin' away with doin' no bitch shit (at all)
I don't drink 'cause I get drunk and I talk big shit
Sneak dissin' won't do shit but get your bitch hit
When you see me shut your mouth or get your shit split (boy)
Do my dirt by myself don't need assistance (don't need assistance)
You hatin' me and I don't know that you exist, bitch (don't even know)
She text her homegirl like, "Look at wrist, bitch"
She text back, "I seen him first, get off his dick, bitch"
Criminal or millionaires, nigga I'm both
When you come that, they follow you, you know how it go
I know exactly where I'm from and who I am, I ain't ashamed
But the love ain't the same after fame, that's a shame
I be fresh but I ain't Gunna, give a fuck about no clothes
Swear I care 'bout everything but give a fuck about no hoe
Listen we is not the same, you say "door", I say "dough"
You say "floor", I say "flow", you say "for sure", I say "fasho"
Niggas diss rap niggas but they don't show up to no show
Your mama must've been a hoe 'cause you call everybody bro
I only wanna hit her 'cause she thinkin' she fine
Looks matter, shit if God don't like ugly, why should I? (Ay bitch)
Backend all hundreds, they know how I want it (they know)
When we slide all choppers, they know how I'm coming (they know)
Tried to hide at his mama's, ain't no hidin' from it (what?)
Sent you a picture of her house, like come outside dummy (grrra)
When you see me, I'm with the same team
And I still got my clientele from my mid-teens
Gotta watch for them people, they tryna pin kings
If they livin' like kingpins, with some legit dreams
I started off small time but I had big dreams
I used to nickel and dime, right on my ten speed
She compared her man to Pay, I told her, "Bitch, please"
You begged the hoe to stay, I told her, "Bitch, leave"
This watch over thirty K, this a brick sleeve
This a small beneficial when you big league
You flipped the script on your people, I just flip G's
I used to fill fiends needles, now they feelin' me
They like, "Oh yeah, finkle in this bitch"
If his watch melt, we gon' be sinkin' in this bitch
The game natural to me, I be seasonin' this shit
You just in the way, what is your reason to exist?
Three niggas with me but we leavin' in the 6
Might see me on 5 Mile fleein' from a flip
Smellin' like new money, reekin' through a fit
Count money, stash money then retreat to a trip (nigga)
Writer(s): Terry Wallace
Copyright(s): Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Exploration Group LLC, JN MEDIA MUSIC PUBLISHING
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
The Meaning of Payroll
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