Hmm
You know what I'm sayin', baby? (Okay, Kmoney)
We vibin' and shit, man
Don't get it fucked up though
Could never be that
Could never be that, man
Yeah
Ayy

I don't want you, I just wanna fuck you (yeah), let your nigga love you
You on me 'cause I'm gettin' money, that's all you gettin' from me (that's all)
She just wanna rock your chain just because your pendant flooded
Pray to Dod I make it off this shit 'cause all my niggas hustle (I got to)
Niggas sendin' shots, but they don't never come direct (never)
I'm in the Rafs without the laces, but it's shoestrings on my TEC
I keep that Styro' on my right, but I spent blue cheese on my left
A hundred grams, it's fresh off the press, it's two G's on my belt (yeah)
I'm exhausted, I'm fresh off the road, man, groupies give me sex (come on)
I'm a boss, don't let 'em lie, they might confuse me with the help (they might)
Man, I'm cut from a different cloth
Yeah, I be drippin' sauce (yeah)
I might have to sit and map it out because these niggas lost
Advise you not to piss me off
One call and I can get you chalked (hello?)
Do it on my own 'cause niggas snitchin', that's what get you caught
I had a talk with God, "Give me the torch and I'ma never change"
I had a talk with bro like, "What's a profit?" We press everything

Money over bitches
Mo-mo-money over bitches, yeah
Money over bitches
Mo-mo-money over bitches, yeah
Ha, ayy
Money over bitches
Mo-mo-money over bitches, yeah
Money over bitches
Mo-mo-money over bitches, yeah
Ayy

Got a nigga, bitch, why would I trust you? (Yeah)
Drop me to Kentucky (phew)
Turn you up, you might get lucky (you might)
Let her rock the buffies
Don't hate the player, hate the game, woah, I learned that from my uncle
Fuck the rappin', 'fore we had it poppin', had the traps, was jumpin'
Gotta get it, they won't feed you
Gotti, tell 'em, "Free you" (my nigga)
You the only one that seen it
We still here, no, I can't leave you (know that)
Like my wrist Patron plat', catch me stuntin' out a beamer
They show love across the map, but just know this shit get evil
I got dollars on up, tote 'em like they legal (yeah)
Fuck her like she mine
Hear a car, get in them blinds (I'm gone)
Thuggin' in disguise
I thank God I beat the odds (thank God)
Stand on business, press the line
Give it all up to Chevaughn
Doin' donuts in the Mas', donuts on the mob
It get hot, they switch up sides
It go up, then who gon' ride?
Screamin', "We the mob, free the mob!" that's on everything (free the mob)
Lil' cuz clean him up for a dime, waves on every chain

Money over bitches
Mo-mo-money over bitches, yeah
Money over bitches
Mo-mo-money over bitches, yeah
Ha, ayy
Money over bitches
Mo-mo-money over bitches, yeah
Money over bitches
Mo-mo-money over bitches, yeah, ayy

Copyright: Songtrust Ave
Writer(s): Kareem Devon Johnson, Marcellus Register