a b c d e f g h i j k l m n o p q r s t u v w x y z 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 #

gettin' paid lyrics (ft. wiz khalifa) - trae tha truth lyrics

uh, ha ha
we blowing money, b-tch
hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, hey
hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, hey
hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, hey
hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, hey
i don’t want, i don’t want you, b-tch
i don’t want, i don’t want you, b-tch
we don’t even count the money no more, we just blow it
ah, we spend it all up
we don’t even count the money no more, we just throw it
ah, and make ’em pick it all up
money strapped to my waist
somewhere in the whip i’m in with no b-ss
flooded the trap, i need a new place?
money got to go, i told ’em there’s no sp-ce
never love hoes, hoes i don’t chase
only wear loc’s the same as my race
all i know is stunt, make a hater feel like sh-t
to the point that he in another place, real talk
i, i, i ain’t the one but i lean on haters
looking so clean on gator
try to jack me, i guarantee
i’ll put the beam on haters
hood n-gg-, when i come to this i’m stocked up
sh-t on my wrist trying to light this block up
n-gg- said i got a dope man swag, take a look at these jewels
every one of ’em rocked up
and we still on the corner packed in
ace town president something back then
hope the sl-t that i’m with got insurance so
she know i’m about to run up on her back end
like i set of bad ties she was getting plugged
we can take it to the streets, take it to the club
i don’t rubber band sh-t, i got trash bags
other n-gg-s make it rain, i’ma make it flood
i ain’t gonna talk sh-t, i’ma talk bread
if a hater don’t like it, tell ’em drop dead
i’m in the hood like a fresh set of projects
where they either rock blue or they rock red
i’m the king of the streets
ain’t n-body finna take away what i came to get
audi r8 that i came is sick
with interior the color of a all white brick
we don’t even count the money no more, we just blow it
ah, we spend it all up
we don’t even count the money no more, we just throw it
ah, and make ’em pick it all up
we don’t even count the money no more, we just blow it
ah, we spend it all up
we don’t even count the money no more, we just throw it
ah, and make ’em pick it all up
big weed in my joint, diss me, there’s no point
lil’ guy but still all my n-gg-s got big heat, they on point
rolling up while i drive, engine be in the trunk
decided in 2005 that i can f-ck any b-tch that i want
ooh, and, and, and i ain’t even trying to stunt
this a two seater, my b-tch can’t help but ride up in the front
balling, most n-gg-s won’t try to pick ’em up
throwing so much money you even trying to pick some up
you trying different stuff, look at how i block ’em out
smoke like a cali n-gg- even when i’m in the south
and when, when my car come out, the wh-r-s come out
don’t even get on twitter no more
’cause i’m what your b-tch talking ’bout, ah
we don’t even count the money no more, we just blow it
ah, we spend it all up
we don’t even count the money no more, we just throw it
ah, and make ’em pick it all up
we don’t even count the money no more, we just blow it
ah, we spend it all up
we don’t even count the money no more, we just throw it
ah, and make ’em pick it all up
hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, hey
hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, hey
hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, hey
hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, hey
i don’t want, i don’t want you, b-tch
i don’t want, i don’t want you, b-tch
i don’t want, i don’t want you, b-tch
i don’t want, i don’t want you, b-tch

- trae tha truth lyrics

Random Song Lyrics :

Popular