LYRIC

I'm walking this bitch just like a bag of money
Always speaking, the girls be screaming they fening for me
But really it just be my money.
Uh, pull up, I'll be dressing, I'll be stressing
Cause you know that I'm the bomb
Watch me, girl!
See, I don't want your bitch, boy, she got my bitch
She choke more than the cinnamon challenge
And all you girls see me rounded
And all too much money to count it.

They like ooh you know your stuff
Baby, that's what's up
Got a girl in Virginia that look better than all your spouses
They like ooh you know your stuff
Baby, that's what's up
Got a girl in Virginia that look better than all your spouses
Down on your luck, down on your luck, down
Down on your luck, down on your luck, down oh, oh

I open this bitch, I open this bitch,
I count money to… Stuck in her tits
Till I look in her face, and I put it away,
I ain't throwing this money around.
She think she's so bad
She don't know I had, plenty bitches cry
Some of them quitter, but I keep a few times around.
Girl, keep popping, keep popping
Don't stop till the money, ain't dropping!
Baby girl, but don't face trance,
I'm fucked up in that…
You're… So you need that
I'm a real nigga, so I feel that.
Down on your luck, down on your luck, down
Down on your luck, down on your luck, down oh, oh

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