[Intro: Young Thug]
(Slime) Fuck 'round and get ran up on (Slime)
Fuck 'round, get lost and found (Fuck around)
YSL need a big amount (Slime)
YSL, trillest out (Hoo)

[Verse 1: Young Thug]
Got a AP on, yeah (Hoo)
The bitch got no diamonds, ha (Hee)
The bitch just plain Jane, uh
It's hittin' with the chain mane, yeah
N***a, my chain swing, yeah, yeah
N***a, we gon' bang, yeah
A young n***a gang bang, yeah, yeah
We tryna get some real stain, yeah, yeah
I'll fuck around and pop that trunk
You can try to act bad if you want
I got a big bag on me right now
I'll fuck around and put it on your dome
You got new [?], don't you?
You gon' do the dash, don't you?
You fuckin' with your man, don't you?
You fuck around and crash, don't you?
The ET phoning home, let me see what you on (Ayy)
Black diamonds like black stones (Yee)
It came from Rosetta Stone (Woo, woo, woo)
Ayy, real pimp shit, that's what we on (Real pimp shit, that's what we on)
I'ma come but I'm not stayin' long (Where she at?)
I saw my woes (I saw)
I washed her clothes (I washed her clothes)
I washed it raw (I washed it)
I sent it home (I sent it home)
I do what I want (I do what I want)
I ain't gotta call home (Yeah)
I ain't gotta prove nothin' (Ha)
Fuck around and get blammed, oh, oh
[Chorus: Young Thug & Young Dolph]
Gettin' money always, yeah, uh
We gettin' money always, yeah, uh
We trappin' out the hallways, ah, ah
We trappin' out the hallways (Slatt, slatt, slatt), yeah, yeah
We gettin' money always, uh, uh
We gettin' money always, yeah, uh
We trappin' out the hallways, ah, ah
We trappin' out the hallways, yeah
We blammin' in the hallways, yeah, uh
We gettin' money always, yeah, uh
These fuck n***as won't play, uh-uh
We blam up the hallway, uh, yeah
We blam up the hallway, uh, uh (Thugger, woah)
Blam up the hallways, uh, uh (Woah)
I'm gettin' money always, yeah, yeah (Woah)
Blam up the hallway, yeah, yeah

[Verse 2: Young Dolph]
Nah, we don't play them games over here, bruh (Nah)
My rocket pocket'll make you disappear, bruh (Gone)
My left pocket'll pay for you funeral
Them young n***as that never had shit who I do it for (Ayy)
Trappin' out the 'partments (Yeah)
Scrapped up in the party (Trap)
Pistol in my lap (Trap), and in the compartment (Trap)
Pussy, you a target (Ayy), all my n***as solid (Woah)
Why you so nervous? (What's wrong?) I came up servin' (Ayy)
All my n***as lurkin' (Yeah)
Walked in Versace, spent twenty thousand, didn't do it on purpose (Damn)
I keep gettin' richer, jump in the Maybach, close the curtains
Turn my lemonade purple (Yeah)
Thinkin' money and murder (Yeah)
I came up goin' crazy with that sack, n***a (Sack, n***a)
Dolph, you that n***a (That n***a), that's a fact, n***a (Fact)
I send a bitch across the country with them stacks with her (Woo)
She a bad bitch and keep the latest bag with her (Ha)
Yeah
[Chorus: Young Thug]
Gettin' money always, yeah, uh
We gettin' money always, yeah, uh
We trappin' out the hallways, ah, ah
We trappin' out the hallways, yeah, yeah
We gettin' money always, uh, uh
We gettin' money always, yeah, uh
We trappin' out the hallways, ah, ah
We trappin' out the hallways, yeah
We blammin' in the hallways, yeah, uh
We gettin' money always, yeah, uh
These fuck n***as won't play, uh-uh
We blam up the hallway, uh, yeah
We blam up the hallway, uh, uh
Blam up the hallways, uh, uh
I'm gettin' money always, yeah, yeah
Blam up the hallway, yeah, yeah