LYRIC
Slatt, slatt, oh [Verse 1: Young Jordan] I told 'em folks free my brother
Real nigga ride with a cutter
Pull up with the heat like it's summer
Made that boy cry to his mother
I told my bros I love 'em
If we see the opps we say fuck 'em
If we see the law we gon' duck 'em
In the Maybach with king Thugger
Better tell your niggas stay humble
He was trappin' out the jungle
Stackin' them racks and them hundreds
The shit that they do, he done done it [Chorus: Young Jordan] If you want it, better run it
This shit that we do for the money
Droppin' the roof in the summer
Ride Bentley coupes when we wanna
Really made it out the gutter
And if you want beef we like what's up?
Got that boy prayin' for good luck
I need more cash than a Brinks truck [Verse 2: Young Jordan] We got that bag now, pullin' up paper tags now
Hoppin' out of the Jags now, million reasons to brag now
Pull up in a new two seater, I dropped a bag on my reefer
Bitch I go fast like a cheetah, I got Supreme on my beater
Revenge with the storm like Katrina, lil bitch I'm sharp like a needle
I'm a rockstar like The Beatles, I'm a real slime, yeah I mean it
All this ice, it got me freezing, now I'm up, I can't believe it
I told that bitch I don't need it, I want the bills like I'm Lincoln
I'm tryna get my bro out the penno, we gon' pick you up in that Benzo
Boogers still drippin' in Kenzo, I put that bitch in the friendzone
I'm tryna core like the endzone, slime shit, you get the memo
Gucci belt strapped like a Pinto, I'm givin' you game fuck a demo [Chorus: Young Jordan] If you want it, better run it
This shit that we do for the money
Droppin' the roof in the summer
Ride Bentley coupes when we wanna
Really made it out the gutter
And if you want beef we like what's up?
Got that boy prayin' for good luck
I need more cash than a Brinks truck [Verse 3: Gunna] I need that cash in four reasons
I count up that cash and get lean
I get in my bag every day
I got Cuban links up to my face
That's a four in that cream, I can taste
I pour Act then I start to get lazy
Go see ma in the hood with that K
Now I'm starting to see I got fame
Gunna Gunna, I drip, leave a stain
Went to Icebox and Elliante
YSL, ain't no cap in our game
Go to hell, you still in our way
Went through hell and called it a phase
Gold on my Rolls, in separate chains
Still rock Vlone, I feel Bari's pain
Thug got the Bentley truck
Yeah, I'm coppin' the Bentley coupe
Swerve, got paid to move out the zoo
Splurge, it's nothin' else left to do
We shoot out with any crew
I see the cash coming like deja vu
Wear an S on my hat when I'm missin' Troup
Got your back, watch the front, we can never lose
Adding shit, adding shit, adding shit out
On addy and molly, ain't coming down
I dress my new condo and bop it out
They love the new spot, let 'em switch it out
I stopped checking tags, just cop it now
Every week it's a show in and out of town
I ain't trade all my ties, swear I love the South
Rollies, AP's, and Pateks, we bust 'em down
Disrespect my snakes, I gotta ride
Twistin' slime, we say slatt 'til we fuckin' die
Slatt, my gon' abide by
Lie in the court, I can't testify
Blue hundreds, yeah I'm still colorblind
Say nothin', it's gon' be a homicide
I'ma go free my slime, we ain't doin' time
Only us, ain't no love for the other side [Chorus: Young Jordan] If you want it, better run it
This shit that we do for the money
Droppin' the roof in the summer
Ride Bentley coupes when we wanna
Really made it out the gutter
And if you want beef we like what's up?
Got that boy prayin' for good luck
I need more cash than a Brinks truck
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