Baby Money - How Many Times (feat. Skilla Baby) lyrics

Trevon Gardner

[Baby Money - How Many Times feat. Skilla Baby lyrics]

(Flexin', Cypress) yeah, go

Fuck the whip
I'm droppin' ashes on the red leather
Threesomes every day
I think I finally found my damn fetish
Left her for another bitch
'cause her head better
She told me she don't need a
Nigga 'cause her man petty
The plug told me cuh, I'ma win
I think I'm Craig Petties
First to the third
We ain't givin' out no damn credit
Back on the car, so when I aim
It make my stance better
Grip on the Glock, so when I shoot
It keep my hand stеady
Y'all down two, we still spinnin'
Hope your mans ready
Dirty nails, nеver seen my face
But my hands in it
If I ain't get on feet myself
Then my mans did it drop a nigga, put him on
The 'Gram, killer cam, nigga
This ain't no SRT truck, this a Lamb', nigga
Hand on my pistol, through my life
I done hammed niggas
Can't talk crazy on the 'Gram
And be a family nigga
Work make me wanna cherish money
I used to scam niggas

How many times I told you we
Was gon' get with you? (How many times?)
How many times I told you
We was still spinning? (How many times?)
How many times I told you we
Gon' come and get you?
You got tricked off the streets and
End up dyin' with your niggas
(How many times?) how many times I told you
We was gon' get rich, bitch?
(How many times?) how many times I told you
We gon' be the shit, bitch?
How many times I told you we was still lit?
Don't call my phone about no ho if
She made it to my list, man
(How many times?)

Ha, I don't know how many times
I blew at his ass
I'm quick to slide down a nigga
Block and shoot at his ass
Got one nigga creepin' at his door
And two in the grass
You better not shoot at that nigga legs
You better shoot at his head
Man, I'll slide down
Blow the fully out the striker
'til the clip on fire
Like a lighter, this murder for hire
Have bro catch him in the
County, stab him up, Michael Myers
Don't care who bitch it is
I'ma get her if I like her
New Patek on, Skilla, I see you stackin' pros
Leave with some hoes
That's just what I do at my shows
Psych, nah, I'm boostin', man
You know I don't fuck fans
Every time I make twenty
Thousand, I tuck ten, ha

How many times I told you we
Was gon' get with you? (How many times?)
How many times I told you
We was still spinning? (How many times?)
How many times I told you we
Gon' come and get you?
You got tricked off the streets and
End up dyin' with your niggas
(How many times?) how many times I told you
We was gon' get rich, bitch?
(How many times?) how many times I told you
We gon' be the shit, bitch?
How many times I told you we was still lit?
Don't call my phone about no ho if
She made it to my list, man
(How many times?)

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