Real trippy n***as
La musica de Harry
Hippy n***as
Uh n***a my mom blow that kinda cash n***a what you talkin bout
Pop bottles and sh**
Groceries fool
Uh you know I k**
Any motherf**ing song that I go on
And I don't gotta count the money that I spend
'Cause I get it in
My bread so long, my bank big n***a roll on
My brain fried n***a so long
I hate fake n***as and so on
Take all the money that I made
The sharing be out the reason that you're waiting
Plus I smoke the bombest weed I call it Californication
A island for vacation I'm callin all this cake
A hundred thousand for the safe
Just baught a pound and I'm a face it
Now watch me you n***as see my pieces tryn copy
My rollie presidential plus the rings that I got on
By versace and I ain't even co*ky
I'm just confident that I'm the sh**
You hatin mother f**ers know what time it is
[Hook:]
I'm just ridin round my side of town
Got my windows up and my speaker loud
And we smokin so I'm gonna need a pound
Bet the haters wish they can see me now
But the money in the way
Erry one of us gettin money bruh
But money in the way
My n***a on the real, all you see is dollar bills
I blow a hundred band get the f** around with
That holdin you in love with the hoe I mess around with
Cuff up with the Taylor, would you drink my paper
My music f** my people but tonight I'm doing yayger
20 years on and I ain't falling off
n***as flex about the check and they run their mouth
Ferrari pull up guess hoppin out
With a double couple in hand and some Money count
Rockin Louie this I'm rockin Louie that
Louie on my a**, Louie on my hat
When I hit the club Louie in my hand
That's the Louie 13, Louie in my gla**
[Hook]