cash out - moneymarr lyrics
[chorus: warhol.ss]
i hit the bank, cash out
get in her homie, she pokin’ her -ss out
swerve in the lambo, hide by the crash out
put the foreign in reverse and i back out
big racks, act out
deuce in the faygo, i’m bout to p-ss out
atm ’round here so i gotta max out
dope in the knapsack, work in the traphouse
[verse 1: moneymarr]
it’s too much gas in the air
sippin’ on wock, ain’t no box, i can’t breathe, uh
nigga reach for my chain, yeah, i dare
i whip out the glock, hit his heart, make him bleed
got these niggas, they mad ’cause i get to the cheese
now they all in my face ’cause i got to the green, b-tch
every day lookin’ cozy, them racks in my jeans
in the trap with the pack, got the glock on my spleen
[verse 2: warhol.ss]
i see too many niggas tryna be on the team
if you play with it, burn that nigga whip again
got a glock on the seat, hoppin’ out in supreme
mix up the balmain with the rick owen jeans, yeah
i’m hot, i need a fan
these niggas be hatin’ but i know they fans
when i’m steppin’ in prada, don’t fuck with the vans
the thirty clip on me, ain’t usin’ no hands, uh
[verse 3: moneymarr]
choppers, dracos, pipes
i’ma walk down, caught an opp at the light
step in dolce gabbana, my drip looking right
in the trap with them cutters, ain’t totin’ no knife
everybody keep saying, “marr, what you gon’ do?”
i can’t fuck with these niggas, these niggas be fu’
and i got a bad b-tch who can’t fuck ’cause she rude
put that b-tch in chanel, she got stuck like some glue
[verse 4: warhol.ss]
yeah, it’s up, huh, burning more gas than a pump
if he come down that one-way, that boy out of luck
i ain’t keepin’ out, ho, i just came here to bust, yeah, yeah
if i’ma shoot, i aim, don’t pop in the air
just fucked up them ones, had to go buy a new pair
if you ain’t check in, you wonder why you here
beat on a ho with a ho, come see that
[verse 5: moneymarr]
nigga beat down your block, got you screamin’ out, wonder
and your b-tch wanna fuck with the kid, she a gunner
got a big ar and that b-tch get to drummin’
i just walked out the bank countin’ twenties and hundreds
ran off on the plug, now they call me a runner
i’ma flex on the opps, they gon’ call me a stunner
and my trap get to jumpin’, they call me the pumper
i’m in here with the fifth, bullets hit ’em, they thumpin’, ooh
[chorus: warhol.ss]
i hit the bank, cash out
get in her homie, she pokin’ her -ss out
swerve in the lambo, hide by the crash out
put the foreign in reverse and i back out
big racks, act out
deuce in the faygo, i’m bout to p-ss out
atm ’round here so i gotta max out
dope in the knapsack, work in the traphouse
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