I save my money First class I flew I could've bought a jet But I bought a coupe Red carpet with a model bitch You on the red carpet with a prostitute Red target on a fuck nigga head I don't shoot if somebody'll do it It's a dead target [?] dead man Put him in the woods, throw him away and lose it Up in a hot box, heard the cop behind me Gotta get away, and we gotta lose him Bass in the trunk, turn up my music Bass in the trunk, talking 'bout that toolie Hold up, wait, slow it down I just seen twelve, turn around I roll the window down It don't matter, we been burnin' it down, all day, all day (Woo woo) That's the sound we heard I ain't pulling over, took 'em on a high speed chase I ain't pulling over, no I ain't pulling over, no I ain't pulling over My dad's 100, plus another fuckin' hunnid, ain't no sense in pulling over Had to swallow my pack, I ain't put it in my crack when I seen 'em in my rear view Gotta always adapt, it don't matter where you at, gotta make them niggas feel you ‘Cause I got bread by the motherfuckin' loaf Shorty give head on the motherfuckin' low Shorty she was scared so I kept it on the low I had to get some head from my motherfuckin' folks And she didn't tell nobody, I stuck it in her motherfuckin' throat That pussy smell like water, mm, mm, good
[Hook:] I got money just like Pablo I told my cousin, Gustavo Put a million dollar cash money in my momma coucho Colombian cheese, no Mexican, I ain't talking 'bout nachos I feel like Pablo ‘cause I do this shit for my muchachos I'm a walking lick, I know these niggas plottin' on me No disrespect but I got these El Chapo's on me I hope you ready for war
Running the road down Shooting at all of these niggas No homo, put him in the birthday suit Take the drawers off that nigga Hold up, wait, he the type of nigga talk to twelve Yeah, and call on me nigga He ain't even blood to me, he lame to me I got a baby mama, motherfucker suckin' me On the low low, you feel me? Fuck her on the floor beside her children He don't know even when she trippin' Pablo money, sixty million They don't like she fuck with a nigga like me, you feel me? Who the fuck put the red dot on me? Now they all on my tail, but guess what? I ain't pulling over, nigga I ain't pulling over, nigga I ain't pulling over I ain't pulling over, nigga I ain't pulling over, nigga I ain't pulling over My dad's 100, plus another fuckin' hunnid, ain't no sense in pulling over Gotta always adapt, it don't matter where you at, gotta make them niggas feel you
[Hook:] I got money just like Pablo I told my cousin, Gustavo Put a million dollar cash money in my momma coucho Colombian cheese, no Mexican, I ain't talking 'bout nachos I feel like Pablo ‘cause I do this shit for my muchachos I'm a walking lick, I know these niggas plottin' on me No disrespect but I got these El Chapo's on me I hope you ready for war I hope you ready for warTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
