talk money - varsity gang lyrics
[verse 1: juci-a]
i ain’t broke no more i can talk money
every time you try and joke swear it’s not funny
i remember when all the love was not coming
now we winning but they all want a lot from me
don’t mess around make me have to plot something
imma turn around soon as they stop running
tryna take what i got it might cost something
i’m motherf-cking will ferrel not buddy
tell me who the best who can really even top us
i ain’t seen a lot from the rest of the options
got her hitting high notes like she’s singing opera
tryna save the game might need a couple doctors
it a lame talk that sh-t gon get smacked up
got some hook sauce still gotta pack up
make that b-ss h-t your knees make you back up
got your girl in the back giving back rubs
[verse 2: varsityjasper]
talk money you’ll get kicked out
taking sh-t down
big bank tryna cop a real big house
ben franklins so my pockets getting big now
pull up to the spot you gone see a real big crowd
wow, i’m amazed at my self
bang bang got the ak on the shelf
no help for a snake in the way of my wealth
get the f-ck out my way i don’t need any help
f-ck with me
f-ck with me
can’t slow down got to up the heat
name getting buzz like a b-mble be
no shame in an l if it’s cause of me
i’m a winner everything that i do boy
if you up against me you gon loose boy
hit the dealership just got a new toy
v8 can’t even drive whats new boy
[verse 3: lil osha]
pull up in the whip with the pounds and the bags
i’m rocking big gucci don’t f-ck with fake tags
eight figures in my bank account, a n-gg- got cl-ss
don’t f-ck with broke ho’s but sh-t she got -ss
ay ay a n-gg- got a bankroll
ay ay my neck as cold as south pole
ay ay we tryna flex a fortune
make a million dollars look like our first field goal
yuh, we making sh-t look easy
pull up to the party wearing nothing but my yeezy’s
all these b-tches on my d-ck wearing nothing but bikinis
always fiending for the [?] i’m just a little greedy
yuh, you making sh-t look hard
pull up on your b-tch and i take her to the stars
’bout to rob a small bank with my new sports car
take a bad little b-tch turn her to a superstar
[verse 4: d-manson]
don’t f-ck with my money ‘less you wanna get beat down
talking to a beast now
dealing with the heat now
if i give you my time then you better speak now
talk money ‘less you wanna get kicked out
done playing with these kids
i’m bout my money stay ducking pigs
got to get the crib, way up in the hills
leave lames in the dust while i get my mills
quit b-tching you can save that sh-t
uh hu, clown around i don’t play that sh-t
uh hu, catch a fade like a baseball mitt
uh hu, don’t talk you just a kid, uh hu
hide when i come through your neighborhood
my side hurts liver filled with mud
chuck lidell on your -ss , so you won’t see it coming
no gun but you better get running
i spit game, then take names
never been the one to take aim
never been the type to play games
step to my crew, you’ll feel the pain
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