SD (Slime Dollaz) - Robbers lyrics

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SD (Slime Dollaz) - Robbers lyrics

All the money Lots of money It come in thousands It's piling, this refeer reefing I smoke the loudest Young and shooting, it's not a problem A break? Man, we never snooze Come and rob some robbers Got marley's, hella marley's A private party, in mansion b**hes dancing, no romancing Just smashing Pa** that to my dawg then she get nasty Pa** that to my plug she come in handy! Pa** that to my plug she come in handy White girl and I think her name is Mandy, or Sandy Turn around think it's candy Pistols get to firing and your feet they come in handy Cop my work from Andy, that n***a some can't imagine Put that on the road and if they snatch it they can have it Money it just be piling Money I just be counting Don't have no money problems all this money out a mountain The innings come in thousands This reefer is the loudest My OG was a trapper so I made him extra proud The innings come in thousands This reefer is the loudest And my OG was a trapper so I made him extra proud Pa** that to my dawg and all I wanna do is f** the b**h Rolling off the molly, if he try me Ima blow this b**h Shawties they be gunning, they be turnt up off that savage sh** Catch a n***a lackin', 30 off now that boy off the sh**s Told my youngin's k** 'em when they catch me, you can't tell me sh** All about my money, Ima tell you I can't trust a b**h I'm a younging with the money, ask your b**h I'm in this sh** I'm a younging with the money, ask your b**h I'm in this sh** Pull up on 'em, ride up on 'em Dissapear, that boy's a goner Money money, Ima own 'em Dissapear, that boy's a goner Money money, Ima own 'em You gon' wife her, Ima bone her Kushy kushy, my auroma Make them racks, I trap on course (Ayee) Damn all the problems We totin' goblins We robbin' robbers Them diamonds, they should be dancing Too much [?] Finnesing, you better catch up I got my check up Your b**h, she could s** a lotta dick, but wants romancing She nagging I'm paper stacking Too much attraction And smoking, that sticky potent Cooling on mountains We drown you Bullets style ya I'm money [?] I'm eatin', Bon' Appetite'ing My stomach growling You frowning Your money drowning You can't announce it You broke boy You ain't around it You [?] I need it Your b**h conceited Our trap is trapping wheelin' Tray Savage, and Gino Marley She wanna party!

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