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Bitches, money, guns Bitches, money, guns Bitches, money, guns Bitches, money, guns Bitches, money, guns Everybody got some Bitches, money, guns Bitches, money, guns Bitches, money, guns Bitches, money, guns Bitches, money, guns Damn just make one Bitches, money, guns Everybody got some Bitches, money, guns Bitches, money, guns Bitches, money, guns Bitches, money, guns Bitches, money, guns Damn just make one Bitches, money, guns Everybody got some Bitches, money, guns Letras de cancionesAnd you could put it down But I’m gon pick it up I found out that the town ain’t big enough Your pop ain’t dead, nigga pick it up Don’t lock me, I don’t give a fuck All of it’s a rental, you won’t be givin up I don’t need covers living up Under me so don’t make me feel him up Cause everything got a Glock and a 4-5 Prom nigga 98, .45 In the morning I’m still swarming Everybody’s heat while I peal up so live In the wake I’m broken Not on the pill but the steering wheel How many people in here is real? Now I gotta go and clear the field You don’t really know me so I’m clearly gon seduce you Pimp tight, pimp J, I’m used to Anything, I’, really gonna make money with it I ain’t even tell a ho what it do to If you that mane, I ain’t even knew you You like that joke, I’m a veteran And I can do it way way way better then So go ahead and put a feet on my leathering You can call me the coach with the pin in the pad I’mma show you how to run that game And see? I used to be a playa And you can look at me and tell that I’ve done that thing Done that thing? Yea mane Done that thing, I run that thing Plip dumb pretty bitch, call this thin I told er I done graduated from that clan Bitches, money, guns Bitches, money, guns Bitches, money, guns Bitches, money, guns Damn just make one Bitches, money, guns Everybody got some Bitches, money, guns Bitches, money, guns Bitches, money, guns Bitches, money, guns Bitches, money, guns Damn just make one Bitches, money, guns Everybody got some Bitches, money, guns Now everybody go and everybody want er Steady tryina get it or they all up on er All up in er, you can tell er everything, You got a big treat but the money don’t win er Stop playing games, you for real Everybody know, that a gun can heal Everybody know that hold on gold Everybody know big throw gon blow I did this shit, run this shit Doing this shit, run this shit But don’t the one that’s gone, the one that sleep The wanna, the one dead meat This full communication that I sail Wutchu gonna do when a gun fail? Wutchu gon do when that gets tailed You go about it, his nigga now oh well Nothing, you may be standin there livin like wahoo But you earned it Everything go but you don’t know So you gotta just sit and stare I spit them facts, hit them stacks But all this materialistic shit I can get this back, don’t leave wit you’s My life on none of the shit like that So when I get, get right back up Pull the microphone, turn it up Roll it up, light it up Burn it up, earn enough Everybody gotta get it in they head Make sure that this piff is thick Bitches, money, guns Everybody got that shit, respect that shit Bitches, money, guns Bitches, money, guns Bitches, money, guns Bitches, money, guns Damn just make one Bitches, money, guns Everybody got some Bitches, money, guns Bitches, money, guns Bitches, money, guns Bitches, money, guns Bitches, money, guns Damn just make one Bitches, money, guns Everybody got some Bitches, money, guns From Letras Mania