Intro - Kid Ink] Yeah You know I gotta keep it (100) (100) lets get it
[Verse 1 - Kid Ink] Ok, I-I'm so fly I feel like a swan My time is money, ring the alarm Flip it to the ceiling watch it do a somersault Niggas say they run shit, I just see it running out Done it all, under the sun ain't nothing new Coming through the west side, looking for the W Still on that bullshit, I can't even utter you Money's all I talk got a pocket full of honeydew That'll make honey do anything I wanna Take her by the head, stone cold stunner Uh, baby, rocking like the wire High out my mind, I'm a frequent flier It's CB and Tha Alumni got them hoes standing at attention like a drumline Keep it 100 I would take all of you combined Kid Ink but I do it big, plus size
[Hook - Kevin McCall & (Kid Ink)] G-G-Get it how I live it, come faster than I could spend it (spend it) Money to the ceiling (ceiling), bitch I'm in the building I-I-Ima giant in a room full of midgets (tell em) Money talk so don't say nothing unless you talkin' bizness 100 percent (I go), 100 percent (I go), 100 percent (I go), 100 percent (I go) 100 percent (I go), 100 percent (I go), 100 percent (I go), 100 percent (I go)
[Interlude - Kid Ink] Let me count this money, 1 million, 2 million Put this up for up my new car, save that for my baby mama And all you bums can keep the change
[Verse 2 - Kevin McCall] Beats I be serving, Saks Fifth splurging Diamonds got so many cuts call my jeweler the surgeon Ain't nobody fucking with me label me the virgin I'm hot b-b-burning, like when you leave a perm in Everywhere I go these hoes be digging in they purses for a Sharpie Cause they tryin' get the autograph person Little bit of coke mix with a lot of bourbon Got your boy leaning sorry if my words slurin' Swervin' in that DV9 on purpose The roof disappear call it magic like Irvin Johnson G-get up off my johnson, no more ridin' dick shawty this ain't magic mountain I've been (killing) killing every song that I been spitting on And if I ain't spitting, bet it's something that I written on Can't even say it was a long road getting on Only took a year and a half and now I'm shitting on
[Hook - Kevin McCall & (Kid Ink)]
[Verse 3 - Chris Brown] Yeah, I got them bullet proof ray bans so haters never in my head Money hungry good for me, yeah I call it wheat bread Ladies say I'm long strokin' yeah that's what she said Crib like a castle so I'm fucking on that king spread Big balling, fuck a loft, and money turn me on So I had to fuck it off, skinny ass niggas pockets looking so bulimic And I'm never spill my drink, you can call me Tempur-Pedic Allergic to the haters, addicted to the money If you watching while I'm laughing cause all of you niggas funny And they call me Action Jackson cause every d-day I'm stunting And I'm writing hit songs like it's nothing So nigga you bugging, fronting What you think this is ho? Paparazzi trying to pop me everywhere that Chris go Never been no sucker no lame mad nigga And your flow is watered down than a drain ass niggaTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
