Credits
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
J-tre Bradshaw
Songwriter
Lyrics
Pockets healthy they ain't hurting
Pockets healthy phone chirping
My plug yeah he rock a turban
Get clean in this bitch like detergent
Get clean in the pit
We counting this money, not claiming a bitch
Private driver to the next location so you know that we lit
They know who we is
We going big on big
No I'm not for the rizz
I ain't going for the bullshit, I ain't lying
Hell nah I ain't holding my tongue
Hell nah, Hell no I'm speaking my mind
The truth hurts any people hate the truth like the shit was a crime
YSL free the slime, your crew ain't popping like mine
No I ain't dropping no dime
No I ain't dropping no
Cash out all the time
Know we ain't copping notes
I want the blues and the greens for a copper note
Run up money on the scene, cardio
Mushroom in a beam, Mario
All of this money that's stuffed in my jeans I got to blow
To this purple liquid, I'm committed
Deuce deuce let's pour up a Wiggins
Cup polluted I hope that I finish
Cup polluted you know I'm gone finish it
Get this loot and it's having some thickness
If we shoot then you know it's on business
Spin the block, double back, hit the witness
Balling out like I'm D one committed
Had that ball running with fire like fitness
Like Ja he keep the blicky
He'll pull that bitch out any minute
Hot fire, hit them with fifty
Caught five, but he's going six feet
Pot pie I'm off the green leaf
Haha how high is he
Oh my, Bobby and Whitney
Five lines, fuck up my kidney
Box just like Benny
Pockets healthy they ain't hurting
Pockets healthy phone chirping
My plug yeah he rock a turban
Get clean in this bitch like detergent
Get clean in the pit
We counting this money, not claiming a bitch
Private driver to the next location so you know that we lit
They know who we is
We going big on big
No I'm not for the rizz
Writer(s): J-tre Bradshaw
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