Belly - Money On The Table lyrics

Published

0 1046 0

Belly - Money On The Table lyrics

[Intro] Nearly half the record amount of cocaine seized last year came in one operation, busted in November Eight hundred kilograms of cocaine were discovered and six people charged [Verse 1: Belly] I play to win, my old foes tryna make amends (Who?) Just 'cause we got the same enemies, that don't make us friends Nothing's makin' sense, I'm watchin' angel said I'm seein' demons repent, for now, I play the fence When I got nothin' left to give, that's when they take offense Life through these black shaded tints, Maybach Mercedes Benz They came and went like pretend friends and the latest trends Underdog, fu*k an undercard, I'm the main event My body covered in tattoos and battle scars Made it through the dark, I guess the sky was out of stars Late nights, so high, we don't say, "Hi," we say, "Safe flight" My energy big, I feel like Frank White Money on the table like the poker stars I send your b*tch to Vegas where they overcharge In the kitchen whippin' cola now (Griselda) Smoke so much, it's fu*kin' up my pulmonary nerve [Verse 2: Benny the Butcher] I got two b*tches, one a ratchet, and one my wife One, I co*k before bed, the other, I kiss good night I know money made y'all soft, not us, I'm still hungry Y'all make enough just to pay bills monthly and feel comfy Any b*tch I bought a bag for, trust me, she carry yay I used to rarely play, now every day, it's Perrier I stood on this ferry late, I was trappin', but barely ate Now I got water in my jewelry case, like Erie Lake, yeah You know it's money on the table like the poker stars, ni**a (Like the poker stars) And I can make you famous when the coke dissolve It's hard to trust ni**as, they only begin off loyal So the best advice somebody could give you is get a lawyer, motherfu*ker [Outro: Belly] Too much stress, I was playin' chess with the reaper Million-dollar man, puttin' rappers in a sleeper I mean, this sh*t is crazy, they say I'm actin' different lately Fool's Gold, I swear to God, this sh*t fugazi In the kitchen, chicken's on me, whippin' gravy And life's a b*tch, but, baby, that's the b*tch that raised me Life's a b*tch, but, baby, that's the b*tch that raised me Life's a b*tch, but, baby, that's the b*tch that raised me

You need to sign in for commenting.
No comments yet.