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gt 63 - baby money lyrics

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gt 63 lyrics
[intro]
hey
yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah

[chorus]
gt 63, rollie cost a sixty*piece
it’s more than a half a ticket when you mention me
cut the air on in the foreign, don’t let the coupe leak
pop a perc’ and drop an eight or i get mood swing
two watches, two freaks, old chops with new beefs
one hood with four streets, got a sprite full of codeine
these n*ggas scared to come outside, i’m singin’ mo3
how the f*ck he twenty*four and he an og?

[verse 1]
i heard hutch mold your chain, the game mold me
if i fall off, i got a hundred racks in jeans
quarter in ice, all the rollie diamonds factory
i pay him nicest when he shoot, he got accuracy
my pants a thousand, each pants, n*gga, half a g
make all them n*ggas pay higher since they mad at me
drive 392, 5.56 make you crash your jeep
and we ridin’ with a switch if you fast on feet
any n*gga do attempts won’t last for a week
i cop the v.i.p. in three days, i was coppin’ a p
put a sixty on your head and let your mama see you
expensive pain in the beef, i’m just copyin’ meek
[chorus]
gt 63, rollie cost a sixty*piece
it’s more than a half a ticket when you mention me
cut the air on in the foreign, don’t let the coupe leak
pop a perc’ and drop an eight or i get mood swing
two watches, two freaks, old chops with new beefs
one hood with four streets, got a sprite full of codeine
these n*ggas scared to come outside, i’m singin’ mo3
how the f*ck he twenty*four and he an og?

[verse 2]
how the f*ck he twenty*four and he served me?
if god f*ck with the work, i’ll serve jesus
enough amiri in my closet to go serve neimans
i put mercedes to the side, now we swerve bimmers
i lost my mind for a minute
i couldn’t even lie, i lost my grind for a minute
they took my left hand, how i’ma shine without my n*gga?
they took my best friend, i would’ve died with my n*gga
suicide tryna get us, we ride v12s
see the proof, we get the m’s, we like d12
i got the scoop to get they mans, bring me details
a hypebeast, i paid ten instead of retail
run up they block, 40 in hand like i’m ezal

[chorus]
gt 63, rollie cost a sixty*piece
it’s more than a half a ticket when you mention me
cut the air on in the foreign, don’t let the coupe leak
pop a perc’ and drop an eight or i get mood swing
two watches, two freaks, old chops with new beefs
one hood with four streets, got a sprite full of codeine
these n*ggas scared to come outside, i’m singin’ mo3
how the f*ck he twenty*four and he an og?

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