Promethazine drinking ass nigga
I'd probably feel like a sucka if I didn't give my niggas the game
I guess I'll never know that feeling

How many people care? How many? How many? How many?
Burning this moolah, burning this moolah, burnin' it
Let the benjamins burn, let the benjamins, let the benjamins

Your attitude displayin' jealousy, my doggy
I'm from the lower income, now I'm balling
Tryna make ten songs a day before I'm drowsy
Don't want to get in no slump and get lousy
I tried to hire a stylist, they couldn't style me
You can't keep me under control, I'm rowdy
I went bonkers in Dior
Bought the Bentley truck, I used to ride in the Explorer

How many, how many, how many
How many, how many people that gon' be there
I'll keep it real with you

I'm in the matrix every day, I'm paying close attention
My situation every day, I'm pushing to the limits
You flipping that raw, you catching a body
You straight out the north, my nigga
Don't let 'em build a case against us, tryna cross us nigga
We put in vibes the most, we goin' coast to coast
They ain't get respected like us
Fuck all that child support
I whip in a Maybach nigga, it's long as a bus
Too many weak niggas get in my business
Like nah, I don't make bond for that
I'm not the type that be falling for none of them lies
I don't make fun for that
Shaking the envy off, I stay new millenia
Promethazine drinking ass nigga
Fuck you pussies, make the homicide triple
Every time she come through I bust it on her nipples
I get to the source, keep it out the middle
Whip a Rolls Royce, keep some codeine in my system
Nigga I ain't boasting I'm just telling you my story

How many, how many
How many people gon' be there?
At the end of every day
How many, how many, how many, how many
How many, how many people that really gon' be there

Future
Fire marshal, astronaut
Kid, Kid

Copyright: CONCORD MUSIC PUBLISHING LLC
Writer(s): JOSEPH MALTA, KIMBERLY MANNING, LELAND WAYNE, NAYVADIUS WILBURN, ROBERT MANDELL, WILLIAM MOORE