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dbc - joseph mcfashion lyrics

[intro: joseph mcfashion & sk!lla baby]
doughboyz cashout
our priorities f*cked up, we still on some drug sh*t
(coach me, joey)
little twenty here, a little thirty there, huh
i wish i would’ve got some of that pandemic money (huh? huh?)
n*ggas don’t even know what they next meal gon’ be
we eat the most literally
what up, coach?
on the yeah side
on the rich side of things (huh?)
naw, for real (check the score)

[verse 1: sk!lla baby]
rich as f*ck in real life, all these b*tches real trifе (joey)
don’t brag about ten thousand, that’s real light
kit full of rеal ice, my sh*t look like real lights
if you wanna book me, twenty, that’s the real price
really can’t be f*cked with, that’s what i feel like (that’s what i feel like)
i like my b*tches ass fat, p*ssy real tight (huh?)
lil’ waist, bbl, that’s my real type (on the yeah side)
i live in a mini*mansion, my sh*t real nice
four hundred thousand for a kit just to sh*t on n*ggas
my young n*gga gettin’ fifty for a headtap (fah)
n*ggas keep sendin’ threats, we ain’t playin’ that (we ain’t playin’ that)
he say he up more than me, i can’t stand crack (can’t stand crack)
i think this n*gga drunk, coach, he need to stand back (huh?)
cut into a cold b*tch like, “where your man at?” (where your man at?)
i done played foreign all year, let’s play the ‘cat (huh?)
young n*gga, rich as f*ck, still savin’ racks
[verse 2: baby money]
ayy, two hundred racks, that’s real cash, this is not my real stash
i put my b*tch inside detention, this b*tch real bad
walk in my closet, swear to god it look like fifth ave (all drip)
i feel like nas countin’ a million, this sh*t illmatic
eight and a pint, tell that n*gga bring the seal back (i want it all)
i poured the first eight and i don’t even feel that (i ain’t high)
i draw plays for the team, b*tch, i’m phil jack’
two dead, but two still survived off a headtap (coach me, joey, what the f*ck?)

[interlude: joseph mcfashion]
i’m just tryna motivate these lil’ n*ggas
how many more chains i gotta buy around this b*tch?
how many more n*ggas i gotta get signed around this b*tch?
what the f*ck? (naw, for real, check the score)

[verse 3: baby money]
if they ain’t in the dirt, i bet they ass on bedrest (yeah)
f*ck the narcs, i been tryna duck the feds, jack (on my mama)
that vest bulletproof? boy, put it where your head at (huh)
los ain’t get popped, i know n*ggas, so stop sayin’ that

[verse 4: tay b]
my priorities f*cked up, i’m still buyin’ ice and sh*t (ask gary)
still’ll slap fives with you, still’ll hit your wife and sh*t (hah)
this a bust patek, i don’t know what a breitling is (nah)
i just like buying watches, i don’t care what time it is (give a f*ck)
had a bentley truck before i knew what a license is (hmm)
plugged with them eses, i don’t know what indictment is (naw, for real)
your homegirl don’t wanna f*ck? i don’t like the friend (that’s crazy)
if it ain’t a maybach, then i don’t like the benz
[verse 5: babytron]
work, hoes, cars, and murder
can’t forget about the scams, i get some mastercards and work ’em
sh*t, let’s start off with the work, i break a brick to grams and serve ’em
and the hoes, the nerve of ’em to think i’m really cashin’ birkin
all these cars, h*llcat, trx fully modded
you can’t get away with murder? that sound like a rookie problem
jefe walked in with a pint, i feel the monkey on my back
flyin’ through the trenches, windows down, the money on my lap
pop a p and break her back, you squeezin’ honey out the pack
in miami by the sand, sh*t, this ho sunny, catch a tan
boy, it’s 2023, you bummy with a hundred bands
so much commissary, have my f*ckin’ bunkie on the tab
sh*ttyboyz, dog$hitmilitia

- joseph mcfashion lyrics

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