[Hook] Hey I think I seen a ghost Half a million dollar car, ain’t even got no note Bitches layin’ on the bed, bitches on the flo’ Money to the ceiling, money come and money go I think I seen a ghost, I think I seen a ghost Hamiltons and Franklins, they come in every show Money to the ceiling, how you love you can go Graveyard in my pockets, dead presidents to blow I think I’m seeing ghosts
[Verse 1: Future] Money burning in my hand while I’m still counting We put drivers in the seats, I’m in the back lounging My bitch she don’t even speak no English when she come in town and I’m seeing dead people, man I got like four accountants It’s all my yayo in that pot we need a water fountain We put that yayo on the East and full ten countin’ (?) I’m counting dirty money, I don’t need no help to count it It had blood, it had sweat on it when I found it I’m going higher than a elevator out the country I do whatever for that paper, it ain’t on my country I went to sleep inside a ghost, I think it was a phantom Man I get rock and roll high, dog I’m off the channel I got sixty racks on me just in case she want to gamble And I go crazy with that back, it ain’t nothing I can’t handle I’m in my room with the light off, burning candles Youngest nigga with the set, repping Atlanta
[Hook]
[Verse 2: T.I.] This money timid, hear motherfuckers talk money I inhale bills, breathe Gs, cough money I’m still making cake even when I lost money A multimillionaire, stil lspending soft money I’m balling way above par, got golf money The bus full of duffel bags and that’s all money You wonder what my motivation? Bro, it been money Make extra jet cause my little mama love to spend money We Texas Hold ‘Em, rolling dice with your rent money Get out my face and fuck your life if you ain’t getting money Say boy, I spend the money you’re trying to make Sell 100 Gs and it’s sad to say Big dough, I get that In a fear? Push your shit back I’m arrogant and I’m cocky cause I got a graveyard in my pocket Spent 100K on my chain and a couple mill on my watch here My chick ride in that car you in This city, I argue in Get big money, no little dough See dead presidents, real ghosts
[Hook]
[Verse 3: Rocko] Boo! That’s the look on the haters face when I pull up in the ghost like Casper Ooh! That’s what your boo said when she snuck a peek at me right before we got ghost On my chopper with a chopper, they call me Ghost Rider I swear my pen dripping, I should be a ghostwriter I see them suckers, I get ghost I don’t fuck with busters Too busy sitting ghost, you know how that goes Give me more, give me more Yeah I ghost that work Whip it like Goldberg Yeah I ghost that word Heavyweight, Goldberg, I’m a wrassler, ho Clothesline that bankroll, I be wrassling ghosts Chauffeur find our way back, trunk passengers ghost Got my green from the Bay, ghost ride the whip Hey man, Hallelujah in my True Religion denims Yeah, Rocko do the most, pocket hundred full of ghostsTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
