Money Man – BabyTron

(It’s Bluestrip, baby)
Phew
Ayy, ShittyBoyz
Okay, ha, yeah (ShittyBoyz)

Each shoe hit for seven hundred, this a stimmy walk
Teachers used to tell me (Shh), now it cost when Jimmy talk
Good in the Willow, all the opps I got in Ypsi’ soft
Put the blue strips and dubs down and let the fifties talk
Bitch switching sides, her middle name should be wishy-wash
I been jamming chips for five plus, let’s have a gifty off
Probably knock the plug head off, he try and rip me off
Mean-mugging, clutching on the Drac’, do not piss me off
Your boys acting real tough for some fake killers
Send your bitch the drop, when she get here, have my way with her
Labels bullshitting, how I’m thinking, I need eight figures
I don’t gotta move a muscle, shoutout to them gravediggers
Hoes sneaky than a bitch, it’s hard to hear a snake slither
Quarter of the za, a deuce of Wock’, these some pain killers
Crunch time, you benchwarm, I’ma hit the game winner
We gon’ double back on her, we are not the same spinner
Boy, you better use your brain, don’t be thinking with your heart
You know these bitches play it crazy, they’ll leave you in the dark
Never did the porch, lil’ me was tweaking in the yard
.223’ll leave him looking like he sleeping off a bar
Chain three tone and I came Vlone
Did the clerk bold twice, then I came 3-0
In a loft OT, so I came three hoes
Three threats in the morning, so I came three poles
Walking out the bank, smell like Creed in the House of Dank
Medkit cost a couple blues, that’s without the Drac’
Real pape’, you ain’t never made the money counter break
Finna turn my baller on, it’s Wocky in my Powerade
Reminiscing ’bout the Runtz, fucked around and found my blanks
Sometimes I wish all the love came without the hate
Shit talker, specialize in giving hoes the sour face
Told the plug I need ten free if he an hour late
Came a long way, I charged a hundred for them first verses
Reach for this chain, we gon’ put him in the earth’s surface
All the pretty loyal bitches in the world deserve Birkins
Yeah, I’m on the road bright and early, hear the birds chirping
Balaclava on, but my habibi, he prefer turbans
Projector on the beamer, when I skrrt around, the vert German (Skrrt)
Fuck a rat, all the snitches in the world deserve hearses (Die)
High as hell flirting with your bitch, she say my words slurring
Never could I fall off as long as it’s clerks working
Had to ask my last bitch like, “Really, was the dirt worth it?”
Tryna stop the shine, must ain’t hear that we burn curtains
Long sleeve or the widebody when we skrrt-skrrting
Unc’ flipping oranges, I’m on Apple, finna ship some jacks
He calling for his bitch back, I know I got him pissed I cracked
Riding ’round, see an opp and air him up like Fix-a-Flat
Zip-tight in this motherfucker, this the biggest bag
Bro pop black as fuck, it was a watermelon Crush
Hoes staring at the whole gang, bet they let us fuck
Call my eastside bitch, I guarantee she set ’em up
If I go broke, might crash the whip into the FedEx truck (I swear)
Foot on the fucking gas pedal, I ain’t letting up
2021, I’m finna go and get a bezel bust
Glock 22, won’t wrestle nothing, I got a Dressler tucked
He spent his last band at the set to impress some sluts
Told your ass once in “GameBreaker” ’bout that seven plus
Been a money man since middle school, I had my dresser stuffed
Boy, it’s almost summertime, it’s time to turn the pressure up
If the BIN hit wherever, I’ll pay however much
You sweating through that fake drip, oh, you a musty boy, ain’t you?
You ain’t got no pape’ to eat, oh, you a hungry boy, ain’t you?
Six deep in that whip, oh, y’all some crunchy boys, ain’t you?
And that motherfucker old, y’all some rusty boys, ain’t you?

Man
Yeah
Oh, you a musty boy, ain’t you?
Ayy, ShittyBoyz
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