What’s happenin’, Chi Chi?
Section 8 just straight cooked that motherfucker up
Yeah
So we was at a gas station today, I told the bros, like
Last one home owe a dub, know what I’m sayin’?
And we all ridin’ in foreigns, so
That shit super fun cuttin’ all through traffic, sayin’
Kinda felt like I made it for a change
That’s what I do
Lamborghini truck, big Dre in the cut
Bruh them Bentley-ed up behind me, know what’s in my cup
Doin’ ninety in a thirty-five like I don’t give a fuck (I’m sorry)
Aventador, I let lil’ Q ‘dem drive, make sure y’all don’t hit nobody
I can’t lie, this rap shit got us livin’ like we hit the lottery
Crippin’, knockin’ niggas out, one punch like he got into boxing
I been flying state to state for drip, I done got into shopping
Every other day, it’s somethin’ fake, I’m duckin’ paparazzi
He ain’t listen, they tapped his nugget
Label told me ain’t got no budget
This ain’t that, and that ain’t ’bout nothing
I got rich, but got folks still strugglin’
I got bros give a fuck ’bout nothin’
I got hoes, don’t give a fuck ’bout fuckin’
I ain’t did that if she ain’t got no butt
Money bring problems, okay, so what?
Pee them too real, they bought me a Rolls truck
Sent it back to get a newer version
Cullinan with the stars in it, got the captain seats in the back
I want the white paint with the red
Guts, all my other cars need to match it
They be like, “Ooh, ooh” off in traffic
Gotta put racin’ gas in my track kit
Get money (get money), get money (get money)
Get money (get money), get money (get money)
I’m getting money (money)
I’m getting money (money)
I’m getting money (money)
I’m getting money
All I do is get money (get money), get money (get money)
Get money (get money), get money (get money)
I’m getting money (money)
I’m getting money (money)
I’m getting money (money)
I’m getting money, yeah
How you make a whole chorus about getting money?
‘Cause all I do is get money
Monday through Sunday, Sunday through money
It ain’t no stoppin’, always gon’ clock in
Ask for my bookin’ phone like I’m trappin’
He a good rapper, yeah, but he cappin’
I treat my shows like I’m getting loads
I gotta get off anywhere I go, yeah
Hop out alone, I’m in my zone
Most of this shit I done did on my own
Niggas want credit for shit that my mama did
I really treat Lil DT like my mama kid
Been poppin’ shit since I bought me that Bonneville
I’m in Atlanta from Bankhead to Summerhill
I can’t play ’round ’cause I know it’s kill
And I know it’s real, yeah
Get money (get money), get money (get money)
Get money (get money), get money (get money)
I’m getting money (money)
I’m getting money (money)
I’m getting money (money)
I’m getting money
All I do is get money (get money), get money (get money)
Get money (get money), get money (get money)
I’m getting money (money)
I’m getting money (money)
I’m getting money (money)
I’m getting money