[Intro: RMC Mike]
Ayy, yeah, huh
Nigga, what?
(Ooh, Sav killed it)
Shit, Sav, that's what you on?
Alright, look, ayy
[Chorus: RMC Mike]
Fuck bitches, get money
Fuck bitches, get money
Fuck bitches, get money
Fuck bitches, get money (Hey, alright)
[Verse 1: RMC Mike]
Nigga see my bank account, he'd probably fuckin' faint
Brought a hundred out in cash, didn't even touch the bank
Bae, I got so many plays to make, can't even fuck today
Started from the bottom, but best believe a nigga up today
Like my brother Ri, I got some big hips, shit, I could tuck a K
If you see me doin' some shit I'm not supposed to, look the other way
Gettin' off with this rap shit, I put the dope away
Fuckin' on a bad bitch and her pussy tastе like Ocean Spray
Every bitch I know just want a gеt-money nigga
I'm a boss nigga first, kit an easy one-fifty
Lean-head, what I spent on drank another one-sixty
Got 300K in cash, niggas can't even fuck with me
[Verse 2: Trench Lord]
Trench
I keep bread on the floor like a picnic
My gun got a switch on it like a thick bitch
I pour up drank all day, I like to sip-sip
Baggin' coke got my nails white like French tips
Closet full of bands, it's startin' to feel like a bank in there
Pockets on Aretha, you can tell I got Franklins there
My son tried to drink some of my pop, it was drank in there
Bust a bale down in the kitchen, now it stank in there
Runnin' up them racks whether I scam or I sell dope
It don't come inside a red can, but I sell coke
Make the dope lock, add water like a sailboat
I'd rather get money and fuck bitches what I tell folks
[Chorus: RMC Mike & Velly Beretta]
Fuck bitches, get money
Fuck bitches, get money
Fuck bitches, get money
Fuck bitches, get money (Ayy, ayy, alright)
[Verse 3: Velly Beretta & King Ca$hes]
Fuck bitches, get the money, and repeat (Yeah)
Any nigga really hate me sick I'm fuckin' his freak (Ayy)
It's a couple of 'em really, I'm sick of fuckin' 'em each
I'm sick of playin' it cool, who really fuckin' with me? Nobody (Who fuckin' with me?)
Huh, I'm fresh as hell with a roll on me (Yeah)
Pullin' up and jumpin' out anywhere with the pole on me (Bah)
Welcomin' the smoke, I ain't scared of niggas, nope (No)
I ain't tellin' niggas joke (No), niggas petty and they broke (Yeah)
Fourth quarter, every bucket, every play important (It's important)
I'm from the trenches, it's a jungle, every day a stormin' (Stormin')
I can't help them, they ain't no junkies, damn, they informants (Damn)
R.I.P. Nip, I'm on my hustle, man, Tracy Morgan (Woo, King), Velly
[Verse 4: King Ca$hes]
Already did the Overland, I need the Wagoneer
Light brown, spent enough time with the Cavaliers
Baby girl see I'm turnt now, say I'm actin' weird
Naw, I'm just straight and I don't know why you standin' here
New bitch, she top shelf, I need the baddest here
Tell her she got pussy and I want it, baby, hand it here
Neiman shoe walker, everything be a stack a pair
Stayed so far out the way, a nigga been done smacked a deer
If you wanna make a statement, nigga, make a payment
I been up, I been down, so I ain't complainin'
Dropped an EP and sold a 'bow out the paper station
Top five Flint in all time, but niggas hate to say it, King
[Chorus: RMC Mike & KrispyLife Kidd]
Fuck bitches, get money
Fuck bitches, get money
Fuck bitches, get money
Fuck bitches, get money (Alright, alright, KrispyLife)
[Verse 5: KrispyLife Kidd]
Ridin' 'round with the newest K, tryna start a war
Get a nigga whacked fast, I know the art of war
Ain't got time for no pussy, got a five on court
Drop a hundred at your Speedway, I left shells on floor
Huh, when I get up in this bitch, it be scary hours
If I rain on a nigga block, that's a scary shower
Piss me off and we'll slide every hour
Niggas know better, load that hundred up and go and drop a dollar
Bitch, they known for shit talkin' and homicides
Put holes in that old-ass engine, how the Impala ride?
My nigga own a Pillway, yeah, I'm proud of Rod
I fucked the world up real bad, I get idolized
[Verse 6: Babyfxce E]
In four months and thirty-one days, I was monetized
I passed some big dogs in the game, I apologize
Golden child, you would think you was lookin' from my mama eyes
Two Dracs, a fifty with a switch'll leave you traumatized
I mean handicapped
Put a pocket in his chest like a fanny pack
Seventy-year-old titties on the Glock, I'm bringin' grannies back
Buy a glass house, crib on the lake, I'm bringin' Danny back, nigga
[Chorus: RMC Mike]
Fuck bitches, get money
Fuck bitches, get money
Fuck bitches, get money
Fuck bitches, get money (Hey, alright)
