[Intro]
(Clayco on the beat)
Yeah, yeah, yeah (What you doing) (Lonely)
Yeah, yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah, yeah (Yeah)

[Chorus]
It is what I told you
We stackin' this bitch, said we movin' together, we gotta be shoulder to shoulder
And I take a pile of the blues and I threw them hoes up, now it look it snowed
Yeah, and no, I'm not cappin' to you, it's a fridge in my chest, and that bitch gettin' cold
Yeah, see this money be switching my mood
She told me that's bad but I'm already knowing
If it's less than a hundred, I won't even move
If it's not 'bout some racks, then I'm not even going
It's Maison Margiela, right down to the shoes
And all of these racks, yeah, you know I'm abusing 'em
Ain't no way I'ma cut that lil' ho, yeah, she just in the way, 'cause a young n***a using her
Told myself, "Put that pain in your music, dawg"
Yes, I be geeked but I know what I'm doing
I'm only thinking 'bout hundreds and Louis, now
See I'm gettin' money, don't ask what I'm doing
(Don't ask what I'm doing, dawg)
(Yeah, yeah, yeah) (I'm getting money)
(Don't ask what I'm doing, dawg, yeah)
[Verse]
Talkin' bout designer, yeah, I speak it fluent
Talkin' bout some money, yeah, I speak it fluent, dawg
I'm with your bitch, finna make a movie
These n***as trippin', wonder what they doing, dawg
We dodging 12, yeah, we gon' maneuver
I don't pick up the phone, yeah, I'm missing all my calls
If we playing, baby, what you doing?
I ain't love the bitch, I just had to use her
What's the word, n***a, yeah, what we doing?
I hate bird bitches, they just so stupid
We get to it, we don't talk on computers
All these pussy n***as copy my movements
I'm havin' money motion, let's get it moving
Get money, my emotion, I really do this

[Chorus]
It is what I told you
We stackin' this bitch, said we movin' together, we gotta be shoulder to shoulder
And I take a pile of the blues and I threw them hoes up, now it look it snowed
Yeah, and no, I'm not cappin' to you, it's a fridge in my chest, and that bitch gettin' cold
Yeah, see this money be switching my mood
She told me that's bad but I'm already knowing
If it's less than a hundred, I won't even move
If it's not 'bout some racks, then I'm not even going
It's Maison Margiela, right down to the shoes
And all of these racks, yeah, you know I'm abusing 'em
Ain't no way I'ma cut that lil' ho, yeah, she just in the way, 'cause a young n***a using her
Told myself "Put that pain in your music, dawg"
Yes, I be geeked but I know what I'm doing
I'm only thinking 'bout hundreds and Louis, now
See I'm gettin' money, don't ask what I'm doing, dawg