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designer junkies - moneyboymarkk lyrics

[intro: alee]
(jxckk just want a drink)
what up, jxckk?

[verse 1: alee]
when that bag in, i’ma bust it down, b*tch, we all gon’ eat
i was gettin’ paid to slide, b*tch, it cost to beef
now i get paid to talk sh*t, n*gga, talk ain’t cheap
let me od, you can’t hold the heat
pmk chain hittin’ hard, gary did this piece
e hittin’ hard, hutch did his piece
i gotta move around off the drank, ’cause i’ll go to sleep
fast car like a nascar comin’ down your street
the weed that i’m blowin’, this sh*t is not for cheap
bro got a different kind of heat’ll bark him up the tree
d&g shoes off the off*white tee
we finna shoot a movie like we spike lee
pour some ice in my cup, you know we get the ice cheap
my pop dirtier than a motherf*ckеr, look like iced tea
lil’ dogs right bеhind me got like five heats
let the police get behind them, they gon’ high*speed

[verse 2: moneyboymarkk]
new kit, vvses that i just embossed
chicken bucket on his head’ll get the problem solved
move the white, move the pounds, now we doin’ fraud
firin’ out the cullinan like i’m a shooting star
alee and e mixin’ trish and wock’, that’s why they noddin’ off
i get to fl!ckin’ out the whip while they drivin’ off
he got a couple b’s, still’ll take the charge
he tried to run off on the plug, he didn’t make it far
i don’t need percs, i make her squirt and make that p*ssy fart
told the b*tch, “before you f*ck with me, i gotta read your chart”
if it’s a problem, i’ll make the call, i gotta feed my sharks
n*gga try to reach for this chain, he gon’ lose his arm
bro, i paid fifty for the piece, not a regular charm
dirty*ass b*tch, ringworm, man, this b*tch a germ
bullets hot, hit him up top, give his ass a perm
[verse 3: grindhard e]
where my money? smokin’ sh*t, i feel like worm
run off, get smoked, don’t get a chance to learn
everybody get a chance to shine, you gotta wait your turn
if you doin’ bad, you gotta grind hard, your life might take a turn
four*five hit him in his spine, he paralyzed, he can’t make a turn
forgiats on the whip, can’t get close to the curb
leave the hood, get a crib that’s close to the birds
ride with a dog and a stick and probably a bird
don’t let a fiend get a front ’til it’s close to the third
b*tch head dumb, but she far from a nerd
the way my lil’ n*ggas spinnin’ every day, you would think it’s the purge
p*ssy might got a scent, but i ain’t f*ckin’ if it smellin’ like perch
b*tch, if you wanna make me happy, buy a pint of some syrup
have my fiend test the work out, we not buyin’ it first
everything i buy be exclusive, i’m buyin’ it first
you the type to drop your b*tch off, keep her whip so she can’t drive to work

- moneyboymarkk lyrics

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