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rose gold - baby money lyrics

[intro: baby money]
the reason i keep buying rose gold
think this lil’ b*tch a demon, she’s just come and take my soul retired strippers, we pulled up on n*ggas, come and take they pole if the other one had lips, they’d come and take my store, yeah
(1*800 for you)

[verse 1: baby money]
don’t say sh*t on instagram, n*gga, tell me how they smoke
enough b*ttons in this b*tch to b*tton up a n*gga coat
since 2957, i’ve been f*ckin’ n*ggas hoes
since 2018, i’ve been frontin’ n*ggas ‘bows
couple years before that, i wore other n*ggas clothes
‘fore i signed a dеal, i was still goin’ and hitting the the road
they found thе diamond in the rough and they was lookin’ for some gold
first shot hit the truck, i was clutchin’ on my pole
first b*tch i wanna f*ck, gon’ be touching on her toes
brought her on the gang on purpose, now she’s f*ckin’ on my bros
i’m a big boss, problem, b*tch, bet them n*ggas counterfeit
stashing a foreign 12 mile, they can’t find this b*tch

[chorus: baby money]
n*gga, the money is the reason i keep buying rose gold
think this lil’ b*tch a demon, she’s just come and take my soul retired strippers, we pulled up on n*ggas, come and take they pole if the other one had lips, they’d come and take my store
n*ggas prayin’ up to god while i’m the one that he chose
to live life, f*ck b*tches, rock, ice, i’m stacked pro
all white party, we pullin’ up in black rovers
we ain’t worried ’bout no price, my n*gga, them racks on us, yeah
[verse 2: tee grizzley]
oh yeah, just flew my linwood b*tch off to paris
made her sign an nda, this sh*t can’t come between my marriage (can’t take sh*t)
really g7, a solitaire, seven carats (yeah)
yo’ n*gga starin’, so he can’t be mad if you starin’, b*tch (i be you’d do it)
green rectangles, white squares, tan circles (bricks)
n*ggas telling, they get in that room and write a journal (snitch)
five bust cubans, ten maybach, rick virgil (ice)
call of duty guns, brody gon’ run up and thirst you (stand over him)
i keep buying rose gold, that’s what that grind ’bout (where you goin’?)
boy, you grown, go get some money, f*ck that crime ’bout? (what’s you doing?)
in the restaurant with b*ttons, opps can’t dine out (brrt)
you know who run the f*cking city, f*ck you talkin’ ’bout?

- baby money lyrics

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