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ot commute - boldy james & cuns lyrics

[intro]
—money in your life (you ain’t never touched no real paper, p*ssy
where we at?)
watelse (uh)

[chorus]
you ain’t seen money in your life (you never ran that bag up)
you ain’t seen money in your life (never sprinted through that pack)
you ain’t seen money in your life (at all)
when it come to this cheese, y’all like three blind mice (dumbass n*ggas)
you ain’t seen money in your life (bum ass n*ggas)
you ain’t seen money in your life (crumb*sn*tchin’ ass n*ggas)
you ain’t seen money in your life (never)
when it come to this cheese, y’all like three blind mice
[verse 1]
all thesе band*aids and i*racks spinnin’ like a cd*rom in the pyrex
ot commutе from d*ietnam to chiraq
milwaukee to the show me state, boston to the golden gate
blood diamonds, filthy pints of hi*tech in my rollie face
remember boxin’ jurors like i was a welterweight
now my jewelry box like a motherf*ckin’ trophy case
loadin’ up assault rifles like i’m tryna hunt a elk
in my hood, i got the title; on my block, i got the belt
crown holder of the ghetto, i feel like taj mahal
if i got the shot, i’ma take it, won’t ever drop the ball
this mafia sh*t we be on, n*ggas is not involved
was at the crib when i got the call, thinkin’, “not my dawg”
300k in six hours, now that’s a turnaround
we ran the play, the gps say next stop germantown
touchin’ in the hills, hundred seals, thousand*pack of pills
thousand grams of raw, cut it twice, bring back a half a mil’
let’s get it

[chorus]
you ain’t seen money in your life (tell me when, n*gga)
you ain’t seen money in your life (you ever touched ten, n*gga?)
you ain’t seen money in your life (never)
when it come to this cheese, y’all like three blind mice (run it up, n*gga)
you ain’t seen money in your life (not even a hundred plus, n*gga)
you ain’t seen money in your life (y’all was gettin’ fronted by us, n*gga)
you ain’t seen money in your life (that’s big facts)
when it come to this cheese, y’all like three blind mice (you ain’t [?])
[verse 2]
all these grits and these graham crackers, on a runnin’ rebel tour
work white as a marshmallow, i can melt a s’more
no cpl, but i’ma tote it if i feel the need
to keep it real, i think i sold more dope than i did anything
never worked a day in my life if i wasn’t servin’
me and topper, we was jay rose and jimmy king
it’s concreatures, 227, we the medellin
i’m on my mafia watelse, tell ’em kiss the ring
the hook was on a n*gga heels, i had to switch the route up
as a youth, i knew not to squeal, i learned to zip my mouth shut
ran the four*three with dl, she kept messin’ my count up
now i’m so deep in the field, i d*mn near get the house cut
workin’ the floorboards, i pay my driver just to ship it
and if it’s worth the reward, on the highway, i’ma risk it
big fish in a small pond full of guppies
big city boy reppin’ small towns in kentucky
let’s get it

- boldy james cuns lyrics

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