mr. moneyman - ebkpablo lyrics
[intro] (gwmethan)
mister moneyman call me mister moneyman
so many different rubber bands
i don’t give a d*mn (yea, f*ck)
(humming) gwm (yeah) gwm (yeah, what) gwm
[verse 1] (gwmethan)
triple m, call me mister money man
i got overseas money, usd ion give a d*mn
pesos, pounds, huh huh, cad
i like monopoly money, so i stay with aud
lil b*tch boy don’t wanna go band for band cause he know i got a ton
i been running the trap game for so long, you’d think im running a marathon
and i got tricks so don’t you think bout’ playing me
i was sixteen, skipping school, popping percs, and sipping lean
i got model hoes, on model hoes, on model hoes, on model hoes
i move sh*t cross the border like a mexican, sipping modelo
i rap my ass off and sh*t ain’t for the free
bro sent the open and i said, “bro don’t you forget to pay the fee”
b*tch keep on talking won’t ever shut her mouth
pro*tip to all these new traps don’t forget to start driving south
walk up in the spot they call me mister money man
b*tch come to my crib asking why i got so many different rubber bands
so it hold the money still
these people want me k!lled
catch me outside i feel like im dr. phil
and i popped another pill
i think she tryna blow my high or sum’
i feel like im paramore, i keep hearing “ain’t it fun”
thirty hunnids, fifteen fifty’s, f*ck it double double
when twon hop on the track, f*ck it double trouble
yeah i be making plays, ion need no huddle
i feel like im damian lillard, i be ballin’ in the bubble
if he talking crazy f*ck it, up a couple*couple
i don’t know if he wanna get hit by a loaded gun
or knocked out by my knuckles
[verse 2] (twon)
by my knuckles, by my knuckles
you wanna get hit with this gun you a lil’ b*tch
all we do is talk ‘bout money n***a
how the f*ck you stay stressing ‘bout a b*tch n***a
we don’t worry about the sh*t, that’s some kicks n***a
we stressing bout them blues and pink, blues and pink
y’all don’t know what it do
we was trapping out the whole city
abe and all yea, y’all couldn’t get with me
your b*tch tryna pop this e
like?
doin too much ecstasy (huh)
(like)
we don’t talk too much about that sh*t
we just hit that n***a up, he a lil b*tch
i had to climb my way to the top
whet the f*ck you talking bout n***a
i stay ten toes* [down] dont worry ‘bout that sh*t
the feds was on my ass, i ain’t say sh*t
i ain’t say sh*t, how the f*ck you tryna snitch
and we pull up to your crib, and we hit you in your sh*t
ain’t your mans dead as sh*t? go get back n***a (huh)
(huh)
i hang around some k!llers you don’t know
like how the f*ck you saying i don’t hang with the bros
like i was out here trapping the whole city though
i had connections all over the city bro
what the f*ck you talkin’ bout
your b*tch a lil hoe
she was just sucking on my d*ck like what the f*ck
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