(NickE On the Track)
[Intro: Jay Critch]
Hey!
Talk Money Gang, 30 Gang
Aye, Jay Critch hood fav
(Hey!)
[Chorus: Jay Critch]
My n***as doing they thang, duckin' police and the search warrants (and the search warrants)
Might pull up in some designer, you ain't see these, gotta search for it (gotta search for it)
These rappers ridin the wave, bitches on dick like a surfboard (like a surfboard)
You know I gotta get paid, ice on my neck cause I worked for it (cause I worked for it)
Money talking ,fit in the lamb now (skr)
They gon' try to fit in, Imma stand out (skr skr)
N***as come around, askin' for handouts (for handouts)
What you did when my pockets was man down? (when I was broke)
Boy you funny, you act like my mans now (no)
She was frontin' but look she a fan now (no)
And we still jugging, we get to the bands now
Cooking up like I'm bringing a pan out
[Verse 1: Jay Critch]
(Hey!)
They dont want problems with me
Hit a jug, yeah I'm shopping for free (jug)
Me and Damii smoking out of the p (Dami)
Say you real, but nobody agree (hey!)
It gon' be jumping like it's on TV
I gotta stay with a beam (plow plow)
Told her don't call me, I ain't trying to speak
Hit me when it's 'bout the green
New faces, got me like "who are these n***as and why they around?" (who are these n***as)
Blue faces, I got a stack to the ceiling that start from the ground
In the coupe racing, I might pull up on your bitch (skr)
Dropping the top down (skr skr)
N***as pocket watching what I got now (pocket watching)
Had some light shit, got a lot now (hey!)
[Chorus: Jay Critch]
My n***as doing they thang, duckin' police and the search warrants (and the search warrants)
Might pull up in some designer, you ain't see these, gotta search for it (gotta search for it)
These rappers riding, the wave, bitches on dick like a surfboard (like a surfboard)
You know I gotta get paid, ice on my neck cause I worked for it (cause I worked for it)
Money talking, fit in the lamb now (skr)
They gon' try to fit in, Imma stand out (skr skr)
N***as come around, askin' for handouts (for handouts)
What you did when my pockets was man down? (when i was broke)
Boy you funny, you act like my mans now (no)
She was frontin' but look she a fan now (no)
And we still jugging, we get to the bands now (hey!)
Cooking up like I'm bringing a pan out (jug, jug)
[Verse 2: Damii]
I'm talking money not rappin' (no)
I need the cash gotta have it (gotta have it)
Likin' the dick she can't snap it (snap it)
Walk down the ave see the addicts (addict)
[?] was smilin' and laughin' (laughin')
88 sponsors like magic (damn)
Gotta stay out the gym cause there's traffic
[?] shit is tragic
[?] move pass it
OG and cookies shit hittin' (hittin)
[?] look like it's Lipton (lipton)
See I get to the loot, now she trippin'
Said she can't prefer school now she strippin' (yeah)
Do what you do, that's your business (yeah)
Throwin' ones, got a 280 tippin' (boss)
My n***as talk money, you listenin'?
[Chorus: Jay Critch]
My n***as doing they thang, duckin' police and the search warrants
Might pull up in some designer, you ain't see these, gotta search for it
These rappers riding the wave, bitches on dick like a surfboard
You know I gotta get paid, ice on my neck 'cause I worked for it
Money talking, fit in the lamb now
They gon' try to fit in, Imma stand out
N***as come around, askin' for handouts
What you did when my pockets was man down?
Boy you funny, you act like my mans now
She was frontin' but look she a fan now
And we still jugging, we get to the bands now
Cooking up like I'm bringing a pan out
[Verse 3: Vendetta]
I just got a pint of the tech
Take off, get high like NASA (get high)
I don't want that bitch you can have her (you can have that bitch)
Smoke strong, gotta flex throwin' 50s (gotta flex)
And I'm all in her mouth like a dentist
Kick back then I ball like Alonzo
Rollin' with a paper and a frontal
Sit back hit a bitch with a combo
And I gotta play the bitch like a console
She be suckin' on my dick in the condo
Pronto, hit a lick get the guap though
No vegan I'm all about green
Get that money, I stack with my team
My n***a you sippin' the clean
Goyard the belt on my jeans
Maison Margiela the feet
And I gotta eat (I gotta eat)
[Chorus: Jay Critch]
My n***as doing they thang, duckin' police and the search warrants
Might pull up in some designer, you ain't see these, gotta search for it
These rappers riding the wave, bitches on dick like a surfboard
You know I gotta get paid, ice on my neck 'cause I worked for it
Money talking, fit in the lamb now
They gon' try to fit in, Imma stand out
N***as come around, askin' for handouts
What you did when my pockets was man down?
Boy you funny, you act like my mans now
She was frontin' but look she a fan now
And we still jugging, we get to the bands now
Cooking up like I'm bringing a pan out
