[Intro: Robb Bank$]
I make mean girls sex me
I make yoga hoes stretch (Empire mixtapes)
I make the fat lady sing the next thing you hear
I make mean girls sex me
I make yoga hoes stretch
I make the fat lady sing the next thing you hear
(The Empire, if you don't hear their drops, then this is not a true exclusive)
(Holy shit, where'd you find this?)

[Verse 1: Tony Shhnow]
Respect the shooter hold your pistol up
How come evеry time we talk money wе don't mention ya?
I'm still ridin' with that yea on me
I can't trust these n***as that would tell on me
I can't leave the house without a pistol and a scale on me
Don't trust us, we'll take sum'
Find the plug, twist a pack, then I shake sum'
Grip her back, rip her weave, get her tracks done
I'm on a shopping spree, this a cash run
I finger fuck that money make a bag cum
I take my n***as everywhere cause they ain't had none
She ask me how I ain't gon' fuck her don't you know I'm me?
I'm Tony Shhnow the CEO so you won't see ID
My boy got lean but you can't lean on me
I keep it true that's just the genes in me and these n***as ain't what they seem to be
We all got clips we changing scenery
I'm with my side with a few beans on me, we pack em up like BNB
We got shots like TMZ, I bought a Glock for my shooter birthday
Bought a ruger for my girl it's our anniversary
I reppin' too official with that tec
You respect the shooter or get checked
[Chorus: Tony Shhnow]
Respect the shooter hold your pistol up
How come every time we talk money we don't mention ya?
I'm still ridin' with that yea on me
I can't trust these n***as that would tell on me
I can't leave the house without a pistol and a scale on me
Respect the shooter hold your pistol up
How come every time we talk money we don't mention ya?
I'm still ridin' with that yea on me
I can't trust these n***as that would tell on me
I can't leave the house without a pistol and a scale on me

[Verse 2: Robb Bank$]
I had sold some jiggas and a tec to your big homie
Grown man bidness lil n***a show respect for me
Adidas tracksuit like '82 still got the blick on me
White hoe dressed up like a nurse you know she always gotta check on me
Gucci leather jacket, .38 stickin out of the pocket
N***a you won't see me when I strike hit em 2 times I dropped him
N***a signed to Def Jam and get shelved how that become my problem (The Empire)
N***as got no house and short pockets got vendettas probably
I party and you ask for Molly, I taught Eve how to be a rider
I'm with Lucy Lu drinkin' sake she always call me Charlie
I run into Meg I'm like Ceelo Green don't talk to stallions (Holy sh-)
Crushed ice in my medallion, while Katy Perry coppin' beans (Where'd you find this?)
Off the show with Princess Diana, got my fingers up her sweater
Royalties all you remember, servin' like I'm King Rich
Bitch must like necrophilia, fuckin' with that dead n***a
Once I catch him, n***a, we gon' smack him bust his head open
I make mean girls sex me
I make yoga hoes stretch
I make the fat lady sing the next thing you hear
I'm the one that send the hit, press my finger for the shit
Made men up in this bitch, got up bread and you can't sit bitch
[Chorus: Tony Shhnow]
Respect the shooter hold your pistol up
How come every time we talk money we don't mention ya?
I'm still ridin' with that yea on me
I can't trust these n***as that would tell on me
I can't leave the house without a pistol and a scale on me
Respect the shooter hold your pistol up
How come every time we talk money we don't mention ya?
I'm still ridin' with that yea on me
I can't trust these n***as that would tell on me
I can't leave the house without a pistol and a scale on me
(Evil Empire, coke, dope, crack, smack, weed, E's, and CD's, they got it all for cheap, you already know what it is, pussy)