TGUT, Hoodrich Pablo Juan, G Herbo, Tee Grizzley - MONEYMAN lyrics

Rich Hood nigga, Pablo Juan nigga
You know what the fuck goin' on, nigga
True story, no lie, three times let's go

Don't call my phone unless you talkin' money
My designer shoes in my
Closet a hundred grand
Send that bitch MIA, she come back with a tan
That ain't my bitch
I leave her to the other man whip it up
They can't believe it's not butter man
Put a four in the twenty
We call it that muddy tan
We shoot with the chopper
Make him do the running man
Fuck these bitches and stitches and fame
I want money man

Stick on my hip
Blue benjamin bankroll like a crip
Iced out, I need a quilt
Stuck in the slave days with
The chains and the whip
Am I racist because I like all white bricks?
It's a chicken race
We see the police and we buyin' it
New racks, we do not do leases
I got M16's, ain't talkin' 'bout bitches
My dope bell ringin', my trap beat
Forty gram blunt like the seasons
At the Four Seasons
Fucked every bitch since I fuck
'em and leave 'em chopper's a bitch
I might just start bleedin'
On Allah, I got more haters than Jesus
Complete the puzzle
You ain't got all the pieces
So much money, take care of auntie and nieces
I fuck like the Energizer, just like Easter
I be on the best exotic good reefer

Don't call my phone unless you talkin' money
My designer shoes in my
Closet a hundred grand
Send that bitch MIA, she come back with a tan
That ain't my bitch
I leave her to the other man whip it up
They can't believe it's not butter man
Put a four in the twenty
We call it that muddy tan
We shoot with the chopper
Make him do the running man
Fuck these bitches and stitches and fame
I want money man

Big G Herbo, I remember havin' coke and dope
Mentally was in the kitchen
Mixin' coke and dope
I was readin', writin' rhymes in my rap book
Fuck around, now I get a book of coke a show
I got fans out of Indiana, Kokomo
BAPE T's comin' straight from out of Tokyo
Cost a few G's soon as I walked in the door
Cost me two G's, that's for my lil fit
You know
What it's worth I spent a bag on my G-Fazos
But I still know how to
Swag in them penny loafs gucci, Louis
That's my swag on the really though
Saint Laurents don't gotta sag
'cause they fitted, bro

Don't call my phone unless you talkin' money
My designer shoes in my
Closet a hundred grand
Send that bitch MIA, she come back with a tan
That ain't my bitch
I leave her to the other man whip it up
They can't believe it's not butter man
Put a four in the twenty
We call it that muddy tan
We shoot with the chopper
Make him do the running man
Fuck these bitches and stitches and fame
I want money man

Bitch I'll blow out your brains
Y'all niggas ain't gang gang
Spent a whole thing on my chain
Used to cookin', bag up 'caine
I'm on the west, free
GeeWee, that's my blooda, bitch
I'm on that east, posted in
Brooklyn, free them Shmurdas, bitch
I'm in Houston with J Prince, shout out Mob
You gon' hear 'bout a nigga gettin'
Killed if I ever get robbed
Bitch, I ain't tryna talk if
You ain't tryna slob
Platinum sellin' artist
But I'll put you on the news
Nigga, that's on God

Don't call my phone unless you talkin' money
My designer shoes in my
Closet a hundred grand
Send that bitch MIA, she come back with a tan
That ain't my bitch
I leave her to the other man whip it up
They can't believe it's not butter man
Put a four in the twenty
We call it that muddy tan
We shoot with the chopper
Make him do the running man
Fuck these bitches and stitches and fame
I want money man