Baby Money - GT 63 lyrics
Baby Money [Carlos Deshawn Fischer] Detroit, Michigan, U.S. 🇺🇸
[Baby Money - GT 63 lyrics]
GT 63, Rollie cost a sixty-piece
It's more than a half a
Ticket when you mention me
Cut the air on in the foreign
Don't let the coupe leak
Pop a Perc' and drop an eight
Or I get mood swing two watches, two freaks
Old chops with new beefs
One hood with four streets
Got a Sprite full of codeine
These niggas scared to come outside
I'm singin' MO3
How the fuck he twenty-four and he an OG?
I heard Hutch mold your chain
The game mold me
If I fall off, I got a hundred racks in jeans
Quarter in ice
All the Rollie diamonds factory
I pay him nicest when he shoot
He got accuracy
My pants a thousand, each pants, nigga
Half a G make all them niggas pay higher
Since they mad at me
Drive 392, 556 make you crash your Jeep
And we ridin' with a switch
If you fast on feet
Any nigga do attempts won't last for a week
I cop the VIP in three days
I was coppin' a P
Put a sixty on your head and
Let your mama see you
Expensive pain in the beef
I'm just copyin' Meek
GT 63, Rollie cost a sixty-piece
It's more than a half a
Ticket when you mention me
Cut the air on in the foreign
Don't let the coupe leak
Pop a Perc' and drop an eight
Or I get mood swing two watches, two freaks
Old chops with new beefs
One hood with four streets
Got a Sprite full of codeine
These niggas scared to come outside
I'm singin' MO3
How the fuck he twenty-four and he an OG?
How the fuck he twenty-four and he served me?
If God fuck with the work, I'll serve Jesus
Enough Amiri in my closet to go serve Neimans
I put Mercedes to the side
Now we swerve Bimmers
I lost my mind for a minute
I couldn't even lie
I lost my grind for a minute
They took my left hand
How I'ma shine without my nigga?
They took my best friend
I would've died with my nigga
Suicide tryna get us, we ride V12s
See the proof, we get the M's, we like D12
I got the scoop to get they mans
Bring me details
A hypebeast, I paid ten instead of retail
Run up they block, 40 in hand like I'm Ezal
GT 63, Rollie cost a sixty-piece
It's more than a half a
Ticket when you mention me
Cut the air on in the foreign
Don't let the coupe leak
Pop a Perc' and drop an eight
Or I get mood swing two watches, two freaks
Old chops with new beefs
One hood with four streets
Got a Sprite full of codeine
These niggas scared to come outside
I'm singin' MO3
How the fuck he twenty-four and he an OG?