Iayze - Money Counter lyrics
[Iayze - Money Counter lyrics]
Bitch, when I say that shit
All the time like, go, ayy
(Huh) creep through the back
(Through the back end) , ayy, we finna
Creep through the back end (Ayy
We're going through the back end)
Creep if you lack (Creep if you lack) , ayy
I'm gon' creep if you lackin'
(Creep if you lackin')
(Ayy, let me hear that ho, Jeff) woah, oh
Ayy, go
SRT and a Scatpack (Scatpack)
Lil' bro don't fuck with the Hellcats
(With the hellcats)
Fifty-eight shots out a 300 matte black
(Matte black)
Bad bitch, latina, and she shakin' ass
(Shakin' ass) money counter do it
But I could probably do it fast (Do it fast)
Balenciaga on me, I done fucked 'em up fast
(Fast) bro finna run it with a K like
You already know what the deal is
Show 'em the stash (Stash)
Bro gettin' money smokin' gas (On gas)
I was too high, I ain't never go to class
(Class) , fuck this ho 'cause the
Nice guys finish last (They last)
I'm on the Xanax but I'ma call it
A flat and leave it at that
(Call it a flat and leave it at that)
She wanna fuck and leave it at that
You gettin' bucks? Show me a stack (A stack)
She wanna fuck, I be like, "yeah"
AMG trucks, shoot it up with some flats
(Some flats)
I don't wanna fuck, give me head instead
(Instead) i'll shoot this bitch up
I don't gotta get tax (Get tax)
Get bro wacked for free
I don't gotta drop a bag (A bag)
I crashed the Beam', got another
Now I got a nigga mad (They mad)
Old enough to be a nigga dad (His dad)
Some of my songs I be talking my shit
But some of them bitches be sad (Be sad)
Got the white folks like, "Why do he sag?"
(He sag)
In a new Beam', this ain't a Jag'
(A Jag')
She wanna suck so bad and fuck so bad
(Fuck so bad)
These racks can't fit in the envelope
It need a bag (The bag)
Oh, he gettin' cheese? Then homie a rat
(He a rat)
Slime through with the street then
We creep to the back
Slide through with the street then
We creep if you lack
(If you lack, bitch, ayy, go)
You know, I'm on Xanax right now
(Go, real Murda Worth shit
I'm talkin' 'bout)
I just made a few bands
(Real Murda Worth shit, ayy) , I
Just crashed the car (You know, ayy)
Got another one
(It's a new Beam' and a Jag')
Another one (Ride around fast, ayy
Just smokin' on gas)
You ain't gettin' none
And I'm old enough for you to be my son
(I ain't smokin' on gas, but
I'm smokin' on gas, mm-mm-mm)
Go, ayy
SRT and a Scatpack (Scatpack)
Lil' bro don't fuck with the Hellcats
(With the hellcats)
Fifty-eight shots out a 300 matte black
(Matte black)
Bad bitch, latina, and she shakin' ass
(Shakin' ass) money counter do it
But I could probably do it fast (Do it fast)
Balenciaga on me, I done fucked 'em up fast
(Fast) bro finna run it with a K like
You already know what the deal is
Show 'em the stash (Stash)
Bro gettin' money smokin' gas (On gas)
I was too high, I ain't never go to class
(Class) , fuck this ho 'cause the
Nice guys finish last (They last)
I'm on the Xanax but I'ma call it
A flat and leave it at that
(Leave it at that)
She wanna fuck and leave it at that (At that)
You gettin' bucks? Show me a stack (A stack)
Yeah, shootin' up, uh
Leavin' flats on flats (Okay)
It stand (Stand, stand) , drop, tax on tax
Gotta drop a bag, a bag nigga mad, he mad
Ju, his dad
My shit but some of them bitches be sad
Be sad sad, he sad
The Jag', a Jag' and fuck so, fuck so bad
It's in the bag, in the bag
Homie a rat, he a rat