[Intro: Young Thug]
(Dollars) Yeah
Hold up, Booke, where you at?
I'm in the 'yo, pull up, bro
Hold up, hold up, hold up, where you at?
I'm at the studio, bro, pull up

[Verse 1: Young Thug]
I let my homies air ya out
Like a car that's been sittin' for seven days
Yeah, and you can split the money seven ways
Or, let them strip you like you work at Blaze, ooh
Ray Bans, dark shades
Yeah, purple syrup, call it pink lemonade
I'm paid and I sip syrup all day
It's my sport, you should call it Leanoray
Orange and purple, it's [?]
Kush sprayed with finger spray
N***a, I'm a junky, you n***as minor racks
I'm chasin' money, I never ran from that
I never ran from jack
If you make me run, shit, I'm back, uhhh

[Verse 2: MPA Wicced]
Ear piece is too cold, my neckpiece ridiculous
Ooh, my ring get me barking like it been frost bitten
I be gettin' bitches while you couch sittin'
You n***as soft as mitten, don't make me pay a visit
See, I be in the kitchen, rappin' and pitchin'
You know I gotta keep the smell down, vacuum city
You broke like a old elbow, you can't pay attention
See I be in the trenches [?] and the bitches
Franklin steady knocking and I'm like, "Who is it?"
I let 'em right on in, now, why would I [?]
You can ask your girlfriend, this money don't bend
I got the more hundreds, I ain't got them ones in
[Verse 3: Yung Booke]
Oneway gettin' in and out this whip, this ain't no photo
And two nines stay with me, Rondo and Romo
Thug, fuck what they talkin' 'bout, holmes got out too quick
Follow my footsteps, better step over all the shit that I kick
Uh, where the Lysol?
Need a kickstand in the booth 'cause I been sippin'
So I might fall (Hold up)
Got my whites on and just sound like a motherfucker (Damn)
Turn the lights off (Yeah)
Boss shit, take a loss get it right back
Yeah, tax write off
Fuck n***a, nah, we don't like ya'll
Damn, I'm a problem, can't solve me
I'm fly as a bitch [?] me
Fake barbers tryna condone me
Nah, not happenin'
But we foldin' n***as like napkins
No round of applause, we clappin'
This Flya again what's crackin' n***a

[Verse 4: Young Thug]
Yeah, thank you, thank you gentlemen, let me take that
Money is all I think about, I'm in love with that
Hunnids is all I'm bangin' on, I'm in love with cats
Money is all I'm talkin' now, now, where Franklin at?
I'm bout kick in the prison like take Franklin at
Juney, they say you snitch, n***a, what's up with that?
You homie, but my crew say you gotta go with that
You pissin' and shittin' on yourself, n***a, you wrong for that
And yeah, we, we from the sewer, but we don't fuck with rats
Ayy, and if I ran from you, n***a, I don't fuck with crack
What up, crap?
OG Poppin', n***a
Ayy, freaky say fuck what they say, that n***a out too quick
And I'm like freaky n***a go ahead with that bullshit
'Cause both, both of ya'll n***a hard
Both of y'all got famous cliques
So let, let's get that rap money, fuck them bricks
Uh, got stripes every day, it's zebra day
Uh, and if they play, let ninas spray
I'm chasin' money, I never ran from that
I never ran from jack
I mean they made me run but I'm back, uhh