Tony Shhnow - Money Talk lyrics

[Tony Shhnow - Money Talk lyrics]

(I really like to use plugg, Bitch)
Let's do it go, goddamn
Go, go, go, yeah

I'm flexin' on niggas with goddamn pounds
And the trap go up, we make bands go down
Shooter clap him up
We can make his name go 'round
That money talk, nigga
 you don't make no sound
All my niggas gon' catch up
Trappin' with the racks out
I just hit a play, touchdown
He had a strap, we gon' put his ass down
I love my dog but I
Still play with the pounds

Niggas always wanna talk about somethin' but
They don't wanna talk about money
Nigga wanna talk about me but that Glock got
A dick and that bitch so horny


It's early in the morning
Wake up to a check and
The birds still yawnin'
It's a TEC on my hip, man
This bitch so official
Cleaner than a whistle
I get paid with my pistol
Runnin' through your trap
Rip that bitch up like some tissue
Trap that sack but I rock Christian
We ain't paint the picture
Then it's artificial
I perform in that kitchen when
I cook that cake my form flawless when I put
Them pounds on the plate
Trappin', I move with that
Weight, they like, "He so out of shape"
I ain't even practice for the game
But I'm still flexin' every day

I'm flexin' on niggas with goddamn pounds
And the trap go up, we make bands go down
Shooter clap him up
We can make his name go 'round
That money talk, nigga
You don't make no sound
All my niggas gon' catch up
Trappin' with the racks out
I just hit a play, touchdown
He had a strap, we gon' put his ass down
I love my dog but I
Still play with the pounds

Drop him, toss him, spark him, I'm an arson
We go up like NASA
We gon' turn into a martian
When it come to flexin', shawty
I should be a sergeant
Don't you want some bands, dog
Ain't your ass an artist?
I go stupid with that check, my necklace
It go retarded
She keep dancin' on my stick
I snuck my pistol in the party
Peewee Longway, my check blue
Flexin' with a piece, finna shit on you
Want a house in the hills so
My shooter got a view
My plug ran a mil' so I gotta do it too

I'm flexin' on niggas with goddamn pounds
And the trap go up, we make bands go down
Shooter clap him up
We can make his name go 'round
That money talk, nigga
You don't make no sound
(I really like to use plugg)
All my niggas gon' catch up
Trappin' with the racks out
I just hit a play, touchdown (Bitch)
He had a strap, we gon' put his ass down
I love my dog but I
Still play with the pounds

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah

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