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dollars - creed tha kid lyrics

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[chorus]
i keep a few dollars in a pocket on my jeans
i want the rubbies, prada
i want all the finer things
this ain’t no doobie but i’ma
spark it with extra heat
and i’ma red*hot shooter
the way i hit you with the zinc

[verse 1]
nonsense is all that i be hearing on the low
try to play me once
play me two d*mn times, that’s not gon go
i can’t give a d*mn but f*ck it make my head [?] to the floor
see these haters lookin’ on my gram, get out my zone
it’s od on a [?]
yeah, i say this loud
man i’m feeling so d*mn proud
better just watch out, we gon’ pounce
keeping it real for the bros in town
[?] wit ’em and he’s always winning
[?] with the juice [?] he came off dripping
[?] till we hit the ceiling

[chorus]
i keep a few dollars in a pocket on my jeans
i want the rubbies, prada
i want all the finer things
this ain’t no doobie but i’ma
spark it with extra heat
and i’ma red*hot shooter
the way i hit you with the zinc
[verse 2]
contacts hitting my phone right now
i don’t understand why they always f*cking with me now?
keep it humble but it’s sideway all they want is just some clout
for the real ones with me i keep it g, i don’t let down
(see, i’m not with the business but i [?])
play around with this sh*t like a menace
i’m not fathering you as my kid
i heard them say, i’m never gonna change
man, just look out before i came
man, i’m running for that fame

[chorus]
i keep a few dollars in a pocket on my jeans
i want the rubbies, prada
i want all the finer things
this ain’t no doobie but i’ma
spark it with extra heat
and i’ma red*hot shooter
the way i hit you with the zinc

[verse 3]
have a few dreams, i’m gonna cash it
i know that this sh*t gon’ last
ain’t no lucky one int his game, you know that’s facts
get the bag and run [?]
bouta do my shmoney dance
i get the cheddar
did with [?] sitting in my pocket
change your weather
the way i make it rain you needing an umbrella
in your feeling, i’m gon have to make it better
showing love i’m here to give it to whoever
yeah do the dash i hit the zoom
yeah, ctk [?]
mercing every check this speed in doomed
man, i’m poppin’ but i ain’t know d*mn balloon
[chorus]
i keep a few dollars in a pocket on my jeans
i want the rubbies, prada
i want all the finer things
this ain’t no doobie but i’ma
spark it with extra heat
and i’ma red*hot shooter
the way i hit you with the zinc

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