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Uh, Yeah Yeah Count that dough Put it over there Make it right I'm a shit talker, I'm a shit popper He got money problems, he ain't got a thousand dollars We some real trappers, we get real active Say your pockets smaller, she only fuck with ballers Countin' blue hundreds, then I rubber band it boy In the club throwing ones, left handed boy Let me grab that ass baby, so I know it's real Ay, you broke, boy, you ain't got no business over here Rich nigga preference, that's a great selection Babygirl exhausted, she looking for the bosses Neck going stupid, wrist too icy nigga Say she want Louis, say she tired of Nike nigga Maybach cost a quarter, I'm eating steak and oyster I like Rolls Royces, got too many choices You wanna win, call us Wake up, fuck the mall up Every car fogged up, and my pockets clogged up I don't wanna rap with you boy, I got shit to do Dog shit in a two seater, this a chicken coupe Letras de cancionesPut a hundred in my mouth, I just left Johnny Big Za in the club, it's a damn tsunami (Big Za) I'm a shit talker, I'm a shit popper He got money problems, he ain't got a thousand dollars We some real trappers, we get real active Say your pockets smaller, she only fuck with ballers Countin' blue hundreds, then I rubber band it boy In the club throwing ones, left handed boy Let me grab that ass baby, so I know it's real Ay, you broke, boy, you ain't got no business over here I got real paper, real tall paper I hide my money in the wall, I call it wallpaper I only smoke flavors, and all my suits tailored I got my neighbors mad, 'cause my house bigger than my neighbors I'm a rich nigga, I need a rich bitch Shorty seen the wop, she's tryna risk it (Mwah) Drop top Ferrari, so you know the top is off (Off) She said she scared of spiders, so I had to drop her off (Go) I ain't got no worries, I got rich nigga problems (Problems) And when it comes to poppin', I'm like Orville Redenbacher (Poppin') Part-time rapper, full-time shit talker Can I touch, see if it's real bae, 'cause that shit wobbling I'm a shit talker, I'm a shit popper He got money problems, he ain't got a thousand dollars We some real trappers, we get real active Say your pockets smaller, she only fuck with ballers Countin' blue hundreds, then I rubber band it boy In the club throwing ones, left handed boy Let me grab that ass baby, so I know it's real Ay, you broke, boy, you ain't got no business over here From Letras Mania