Oil Money

Where do we have to go?

I don't know, let me know where we end up

Cause I’m not about to sit and watch it get us

Just picture the stickers is on it

And its flashy, flauntin‘, funny but them people only want that gold to pawn it

I need that gold to wear it on the court like I’m Jordan

Performin‘, I’m scorin’ way more than I’m supposed to

And I’m lookin’ way better in person than my photos

But lets not talk about me

Lets talk about this

If it’s too hot, then take your hands off

Pass it like Joe Montana

Champions

Hats off, salute

Now what do you look forward to, the landing or the take off

Get back, cause them Apes I gotta Harlem Shake off

I got the paint; I just need some shit to paint on

This is a lullaby

Not intended to make you cry

But to open up your eyes

And in this lullaby

You got to do right

Before you die

Before you die

Cleveland nigga, wintertime I catch a flight to somewhere sunny

Come to visit

Fuck yo couch they shouldn’t have gave us niggas money

For the honeys

Like they woulda said in ‘94

Bumpin' Jodisee, and anything I say'll prolly go

While we smoking in that ‘Lac truck, headed to the mall

Now we coppin’ even though I left my wallet in the car

Yeah she got it, deposit: we got it, good credit, good head, and it's all copasetic

She cool and she get it, priceless

And nice tits, she got that look twice chest, she righteous; we might just

Valet the Mercedes in the front just to give ‘em what they want

Cameras flashin’, hoppin’ out with the blunt

Who knew this rappin’ shit would pay off

I’m firin’ up the kill like I got fired on my day off

Seen a whole lotta niggas get broken by some broad they like to break off

And the same old bitch they spent that change with be the same bitch I’m gon' shake off

The monster of the mid yo

Quick to Richard Dent a nigga

Peace to all my OT hoes and the gifts they love to send a nigga

Fresh white socks and a black d bones

We done broke down bags with the realest niggas

Spittin' these flows on stage at the show, blowin’ Optimos and Swishas witcha

(Feel it nigga?)

If y'all don't, then I can keep my day job

Ski mask my uniform, them dope dealers gon' stay robbed

T-top ceiling and my dank still stankin’ and I crush ya feelings like the Saints did Peyton

Fresh pair of Levi’s, white tee, and 6 Carmines

Hoppin’ out some 2010 shit; yes, the car’s mine

Sittin’ in Corinthians sit back watch the stars shine

I know you starstruck, shit I can leave a star blind

Booyah, just like Isiah

A playa, the pro bowl, the mayor

I’m so cold, they stare

The ho stroll’s prepared, I’m pimpin’ my ride out

Then back to my lair

The honeycomb hideout

Your honey’s gon' hide out in my crib like a fugitive

She wanna have a ball; I told her I got two to give

She wanna see the flashin’ lights and red carpet

I let her pop a double stack, I’m tryin' to start shit

She’s on a bear skin, layin’ in her bare skin

Her body’s super thick and it’s fair skin - I’m there then

On the sofa, smokin’ jacket, Gucci loafers, and I’m blowin’ on a Swisher, while she’s blowin’ me

Its over (6x)