The story gon’ get told how its told, yeah I came in the game buggin’ with no coach, yeah You only popping for a post, yeah We the ones
Not the ones you should approach, yeah Rolled up like i ordered me Hanami, [that Hanami!] I need 50 bowls of green, that wasabi [for me and my posse] [my young!]
Thats who got me when the heat get on and poppin’ When the chopping block get choppy You know when it’s too Habatchi, hoe
My phone dead you can’t reach me Got on all black you can’t see me We got no plan to “take easy” Till my bank account is baked ziti, with the sauce If you ain’t talking paper keep it movin’ bitch I say fuck the bullshit Lets get Stupid Rich!
I say fuck the bull shit, lets get stupid rich!
Who you think you are anyway huh? Who you think you are?
I just chase the paper, not the fame that follow Ain’t a thing that i don’t - go insane asylum on I’m singing up an octave hoe, like Oh na-na-na i can’t take all that gossip no more Oh when i walk in, These bitches they pop on the floor
Ok. This just in Whats that? That new CNN Nah, thats that fake shit again Whats that? That used-to-be-friends Whats that exchange rate for them favors? Bet "its nothing" my nigga I might sneeze on your opinion That’s just something i’m sick of Oh, she lit through the camera She that new paparazzi Make her get off the phone And then get right on my Johnson
But my phone dead you can’t reach me Got on all black you can’t see me We got no plan to “take easy” Till my bank account is baked ziti, with the sauce If you ain’t talking paper keep it movin’ bitch I say fuck the bullshit Lets get Stupid Rich!
I say fuck the bull shit, lets get stupid rich!Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
