Moola Gang, Mac Miller - Beautiful Money lyrics

These dead presidents old just
Like my grandpie
But feel like a bitch with a fat ass
All the lights and cameras flashin'
I gotta flash it this money is beautiful
This money is beautiful

Uh swear I seen it all, I mean thousands
You made millions meanwhile I'm on a
Fingers turn to colors from the
Euros that I'm countin' (Rainbow)
You in the hood poutin'
I'm sippin' on sour grapes
Lookin' at my champagne glass with
A Bill Cowher face (Woo)
Mazel tov, no, really, she said, "Mazel tov"
(For real)
My life's monologue, words like Kellogg's
(Kellogg's)
'Cause now my son is raised in brands
You wouldn't understand how I came from a jam
To sippin' on tea, eatin' over jam
From my auntiе's basement
Smellin' likе a thousand grands
Trap goin' ham, hot, dreams of a teardrop
Moola Gang, we that gettin' money clan (Clan)
Paint green on life's canvass
My campus the incredible two
State for a federal

It's all real, baby
Get outta this, mane, Moola Gang

My shoes cost a pretty penny
Loafin' in them Jordan 11's
I don't do the pennies
It don't matter if they black
Or white like Michael
Sneakerheads ship them FedEx to they arrival
A brotherI don't give no one credit
They should apply more
I shoulda only gave my ex
Sex like a side-whore
Focused on the present
The past took a lot of me
But that's what adds excitement
To my biography this money, sexy life pinky
Make your bitch do downstairs like a slinky
You couldn't see my clique if I linked ya
Links in my chain platinum like a Visa
These are V, can't play defense in the V
I'd rather be low-key with the
Keys to the city
Gettin' moolah with the gang
We a G'd up committee
Two handfuls of money like a C-cup of titties

These dead presidents old just
Like my grandpie
But feel like a bitch with a fat ass
All the lights and cameras flashin'
I gotta flash it this money is beautiful
This money is beautiful

Yeah, havin' millions will be picture-perfect
I know these people know the kid deserves it
Got the sickest verses
Spinnin' like it's written in cursive
Twisted herb, lost, phone missin' service
With all these clowns here
I feel like it's a circus
Sippin' liquor got me spinnin' 'til
I'm layin' on the bed
Eyes in the back of my head, you see me
After this bread
Tryna get it like Bill Gates
Flippin' mechandise and sellin' mixtapes
When you wanna escape, boy, this piff great
Full stomach though, an empty dinner plate
Bunch of strippers goin' ham
Dancin' in the cage
You got no candles with your cake
You washed up
You a dickface, I bet your job sucks
Who you fuckin' with? Not us you mad, haha