More Money

(альбом: Respect The Come Up - 2022)

More money
More money
More money
More money

Now my life's like a movie, show you hundreds of scenes (Hundreds)
Before my "Hood's Hottest" I was hundred degrees
How am I still stressed out? All the numbers I seen
My soul's still hungry indeed
I got things to achieve
I got a job to complete
And if the Devil's in the detail, what's God got for me?
And they fucking with Meekz, but I gotta keep the hunger in me
My G's a multi-millionaire and he's younger than me
That ain't banter to me, that shit's gangster to me

The streets (Don't love me)
And these hoes don't love me
If I pose fuckery, would my bros judge me?
Would they rate me if I turn a ghost duppy?
But how can I kill what's already dead?
Cah they ain't battling with me, they at war in their head
I need all of the bread
I'm legendary with my steps
And my corner's the best
I used to stash cash and forget
Now my accountant collects all of my cheques

I need more money
We just fuck up the streets, they got my shit on repeat
I want more money
The hood want me to eat, they screaming, "Bon appétit!"
I got more money
I just fuck up a beat, they know I come up on fiends
I need more money

We don't know comfy, my soul's hungry
Couple mill' in the account so I can show mumsy
And every story's both-sided like my old pumpy
I'm a serious trapper, I'm so grumpy
I get the phone jumpy
He ain't tryna go country, fuck it, he can hold dough for me
I just hate it when my bitch don't trust me
If I was broke and I had no money
Would you dance on the pole for me
Burn my clothes, hide this pole for me?
I'm so sorry
I fell in love with the game
First time that I done me a stain
Thought that I was paid for a couple of days
Then I started getting money in a couple of way
I ain't got too many friends cah most of my mates are all stuck in a cage
All stuck in their ways
But we stuck in our ways
She fell in love with my neck
I mean, in love with my chain
I fell in love with the neck
I mean, in love with the brain
You know I come for the game
I don't care about fame

I need more money
We just fuck up the streets, they got my shit on repeat
I want more money
The hood want me to eat, they screaming, "Bon appétit!"
I got more money
I just fuck up a beat, they know I come up on fiends
I need more money

I used to push rock, like Rocky I'm a champ
Do the rock with the gang, and do the popular dance
I'm tryna pop me a champs, and pop tags, I never popped me a Xan
I couldn't ever be pop, I'm tryna pop me a man (Baow!)
And you ain't ever seen no shit in the tank
I'm really robbing a bank
I'm just a horrible Manc'
Changed the game, safe to say it's me they'll probably thank
I'm pissed off I got poverty plans
Free my dargs, that's robbery gang
I love rubbery bands

I need more money
We just fuck up the streets, they got my shit on repeat
I want more money
The hood want me to eat, they screaming, "Bon appétit!"
I got more money
I just fuck up a beat, they know I come up on fiends
I need more money