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been rich - baby money lyrics

[intro: tay b]
(beatgang)
yeah, all facts, lil’ n*gga
easy money sh*t, n*gga
ayy

[verse 1: baby money]
two cullinans and a lamb chop
we blam opps, ain’t felt no pain since my mans died
f*ck a drac’, i put a switch on my tan glock
ten cuban links on, i bet i stand out
[verse 2: tay b]
huh, d*ck suckin’ before the hoes, n*ggas fanned out
y’all was rich for a year, that pape’ ran out
give lil’ bro a hundred when they let my mans out
this b*tch ain’t wanna let me f*ck, i bet i can now

[verse 3: baby money]
yeah, pull your pants down
they close saks when i walk in, don’t need no d*mn stylist
ballin’, celine headbands, b*tch, i’m ben wallace
my shooter pickin’ pape’ up, the opps still droppin’
it’s f*ck 12, but tell them n*ggas that i been coppin’

[verse 4: tay b]
we been coppin’, been rich, b*tch, we been crunchin’
you can go and ask your ho, she been d*ck suckin’
how you send a hundrеd shots and you don’t hit nothin’?
how you f*ck a hundred n*ggas and ain’t get nothin’?
i just came in your mouth, i can’t kiss nothin’
you don’t buy your b*tch sh*t, i know that b*tch f*ckin’
fivе carats each ear, i feel like crumbles
if you bring a b*tch with you, then i might touch you

[verse 5: baby money]
if he buy a brick or two, then i might front you
value goin’ up plain, i ain’t ice nothin’
i knew the plug all my life, we just like cousins
loyalty is everything, i pay his price for him
park the car, get on feet, i feel like runnin’
scope on everything we cop, b*tch, we like huntin’
throwin’ up drank and addy v’s, i got a light stomach
in saint laurent and louis v, i feel like money
she wanna write back, send a flight, my dog been sendin’ kites
german engineering and we like a million in on ice
[verse 6: tay b]
you can pull up and get f*cked, you can never spend the night
playin’ with my pape’, kidnap the kid, uncle ice
yeah, i rap, but i’ll never stop trappin’, this my life
you want a deal, i’ll never stop taxin’, this my price

[verse 7: baby money]
keep it real, since a kid, i been f*ckin’ n*ggas’ wifes
four hundred on a light day, our ice be cuttin’ on the lights, easy money

[outro]
(what up, antt?)
(bang that sh*t)

- baby money lyrics

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