I got racks up in my pocket, racks up in my pocket
I got thots all in my phone calling me, b**h, stop it
Fourteen hundred for this belt, this ain't no damn Versace
And I'm smoking all this dope, my hobby's getting money
I count money like I'm poor, you know I already done it
Twenties, fifties, hundreds, b**h I'm stunting
Fifties, hundreds, twenties, oh my goodness
I need my money machine to count this sh** for me
I'll be flexin' on n***as, just coolin', flexin'
I got my n***as, my money, my toolie
I got my car, my house and my j**elry
Yes, flexin' on n***as, I ain't worried
Smoking tooka to the head
Come through shoot ya then you're dead
I'm getting money f** the feds
I'm Glo Gang, what is this?
That's my sh**, you little b**h
Let's get rich you little b**h
Get off my dick you little b**h
And go get you a brick
Smoking TuTu that's my opps
So much damn TuTu on my car
Counting rolls like a boss then
You know that I know
Money machine go beep beep
Hop in my car shooting sh**
Du-du du-du du-du beep beep
All these f** boys wanna be me
His b**h let me f** her cause I got racks
So I hit it like bang bang, skeet, skeet
Tell that on my phone yeah
Money tatted on my mind yeah
Thirty tatted on my gun yeah
It's time to have fun yeah
His b**h say she wanna f** me
She really wanna f** my money
Thought that I ain't know
She thought that I was a dummy
Told her save that sh**
Baby you on that lame a** sh**
I don't play that sh**