SD, Gino Marley, Tray Savage - Robbers lyrics

All the money
Lots of money
It come in thousands
It's piling
This refeer reefing I smoke the loudest
Young and shooting, it's not a problem
A break? Man, we never snooze
Come and rob some robbers
Got marley's, hella marley's
A private party, in mansion
Bitches dancing, no romancing
Just smashing
Pass that to my dawg then she get nasty
Pass that to my plug she come in handy!

Pass that to my plug she come in handy
White girl and I think her name is Mandy
Or Sandy
Turn around think it's candy
Pistols get to firing and your
Feet they come in handy
Cop my work from Andy
That nigga some can't imagine
Put that on the road and if they
Snatch it they can have it
Money it just be piling
Money I just be counting
Don't have no money problems all
This money out a mountain
The innings come in thousands
This reefer is the loudest
My OG was a trapper so I made him extra proud
The innings come in thousands
This reefer is the loudest
And my OG was a trapper so
I made him extra proud

Pass that to my dawg and all I
Wanna do is fuck the bitch
Rolling off the molly
If he try me Ima blow this bitch
Shawties they be gunning
They be turnt up off that savage shit
Catch a nigga lackin'
30 off now that boy off the shit's
Told my youngin's kill 'em
When they catch me
You can't tell me shit
All about my money, Ima tell you
I can't trust a bitch
I'm a younging with the money
Ask your bitch I'm in this shit
I'm a younging with the money
Ask your bitch I'm in this shit
Pull up on 'em, ride up on 'em
Dissapear, that boy's a goner
Money money, Ima own 'em
Dissapear, that boy's a goner
Money money, Ima own 'em
You gon' wife her, Ima bone her
Kushy kushy, my auroma
Make them racks, I trap on course

(Ayee)
Damn all the problems
We totin' goblins
We robbin' robbers
Them diamonds, they should be dancing
Too much
Finnesing, you better catch up
I got my check up
Your bitch, she could suck a lotta dick
But wants romancing
She nagging
I'm paper stacking
Too much attraction
And smoking, that sticky potent
Cooling on mountains
We drown you
Bullets style ya
I'm money
I'm eatin', Bon' Appetite'ing
My stomach growling
You frowning
Your money drowning
You can't announce it
You broke boy
You ain't around it
You
I need it
Your bitch conceited
Our trap is trapping wheelin'
Tray Savage, and Gino Marley
She wanna party!