style ain't free - moneybagg yo lyrics
june, you’re a g*nius
yeah, open up, hey
mane, look, stop it
always got my name in some gossip
white diamonds, triple k like a n-z-
big breadgang chain came from wafi
that redbone you crushin’, she want me to f-ck her
i’m three hours late, sippin’ ‘tussin
she drop off the head just to stop me from fussin’
and that what you call a concussion
went hard ‘fore i ever made a rap check
gettin’ money out the streets
ducked off, i was servin’ on the southside
but i stayed in the east
told the b-tch cook some hot wings and ro-tel
we don’t go out to eat
what you doin’? gon’ mob a n-gg- up then
wipe the d-ck off neat
give a f-ck about a ring but i’m smokin’ wedding cake
hood still in my jeans, i was eatin’ a hot plate
tryna reach a new level, these n-gg-s too content
big homie might snap, he gon’ do it off the strength
she just got it sewed in, but i’m pullin’ every inch
used to get a hotel, now we f-ck behind tint
had to get a n-gg- hit, ’cause he tried to go against
pulled up in his yard, left his -ss on the fence
it ain’t no end to this trend
double our truck, ain’t no 4matic benz
they like, he at it again
i just put me a new whip in the wind
i’m having way too much money
make a b-tch dizzy the way that i spend
i’m havin’ way too much money
count up and repeat it again
mane, look, stop it
always got my name in some gossip
white diamonds, triple k like a n-z-
big breadgang chain came from wafi
that redbone you crushin’, she want me to f-ck her
i’m three hours late, sippin’ ‘tussin
she drop off the head just to stop me from fussin’
and that what you call a concussion
lil’ buddy got the fye but don’t pop it
audemars came from the faucet
lamborghini, forgiato wet, mop it
glock 40, shoot his shoulder out his socket
big d-ck, you could whip it like hibachi
walkin’ in my robes, it’s versace, versace
69 shooters and they nothin’ like tekashi
keep one in the head, tryna c-ck it, they done shot ya
switch it, the maybach, the lambo’, the ‘rari
sorry, pardon, my drip r-t-rded
outer sp-ce, marvin the martian
better get your b-tch up off the market, huh
young vince carter with the carbon
i can paint a picture in your head, i’m a artist
richard mille wet, and it got my wrist soggy
hit it from the back, style doggy, yeah
maison margiela my coat, ho
where was you at? i was broke, no hope
i put the plug in the yolk and i go
death or dishonor, i live by the oath
yeah, gotta get the money bag, yo
fifteen a hunnid two, three times, then four
n-gg-, bet i’ll cross that line, we gon’ blow
it’s a bust down, can’t even see the time in this ho
mane, look, stop it
always got my name in some gossip
white diamonds, triple k like a n-z-
big breadgang chain came from wafi
that redbone you crushin, she want me to f-ck her
i’m three hours late, sippin’ ‘tussin
she drop off the head just to stop me from fussin’
and that what you call a concussion
let me see your wrists
this ain’t it, i just spoke with the chief
comin’ straight off the top, chanel bandana
this style ain’t free
yeah, uh, uh, uh, style ain’t free
gotta pay for this here
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