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I don't really got to say much | I let my pacc talk | I don't really got to talk much
I don't really got to say much I let my pacc talk I don't really got to talk much That's what these racks for I get fly for the studio I get fly for the airport I get fly everywhere I go, oh, oh 30 bottles up in Greystone In the club rollin' airplanes You gettin' money, you already know (Oh, Oh) So much Cris, you would think we buy it wholesale And my crib so big, look like a hotel When we leave here we smokin' out the hotel When we leave ain't no tellin' who pay the whole bill Cause we all gettin' money, uh! I'm a broke nigga's nightmare, broke hoes sight stare And a walking bank roll, as long as the dank rolled It's gon' be hard to hear you niggas Louis frames so I don't have to see you niggas Me and the Taylor Gang, floatin' on a private plane Bad bitch gimme brain, hide behind this tinted thing Money bag, kush cologne, niggas wonder why we on All about the benjy's nigga, Puffy Combs I can make an actress do backflips on a mattress I can make a sack do a back flip on Saks Fifth Get trippy with a star, it'll get you far Turnt up in the club, TMZ outside my car Catch me at the spot with more angels than Charlie Dope cookies, kush, kilos, and mollys Smelling like money what a elegant fragrance This watch I got on is a hell of a statement Check the clock, you know the time Girl, fuck your body, I want you mind In need of getting this money, making and spending this money ain't part of your daily plan then you should probably die
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