[INTRO]
(What, what) Yeah
(What) Yeah, Yeah
This that FOURTEEN05, bitch
(Yeah)
[Chorus]
I just hit my fucking quota on money in the bank
And i’m feeling like i’m Sosa the way this record bang
I’m not hearing no discussion or any fucking thing
You can meet me out in public but this ain’t what you think
Bitch i’m getting fucking tired of the lies on my name
I’m not out here in disguise put the prize on my chain
That include your lil baby, her friends, and the gang
Leave a message at the front if you wanna complain
(Yeah, yeah, yeah)
[VERSE 1]
I just fucked up this game, bitch it’s my season let’s work
Living rent free in your brain, move my closet in their first
Keep that stick like i’m Aang, i don’t even know how all this shit work
And she fucking up my aim, keep on asking bout her purse
Feel like timbo
Tell me what you think this a Paris Michael tempo
Know i had to blank on this shit before the rent blow
I done see the fame ruin niggas inner sin though
My niggas hitting stains up on mercer in the Kenzo
Memento
Boxing niggas in just like a Bento
You ain’t listen to the shit I told you on the intro
Still ain’t sign my name to the game
Oh your girl been tryna ring?
Knew this number looked the same
[Chorus 2]
Hit 100 motherfuckers with my chain on and money in the bank
And i’m feeling like i’m Sosa the way this record bang
I’m not hearing no discussion or any fucking thing
You can meet me out in public but this ain’t what you think
Bitch i’m getting fucking tired of the lies on my name
I’m not out here in disguise put the prize on my chain
That include your lil baby, her friends, and the gang
Leave a message at the front if you wanna complain
(Yeah, yeah, yeah)
[VERSE 2]
My last shit was 6 songs and it’s still better bitch catch up
Booing all your shit your whole stage look like ketchup
365 you been talking bout you next up
Well bitch we here, must’ve meant next up to our next up
I maxed out my paystub
Rick zipped and laced up
Accutane with my lemonade cus' i’m Acne from the waist up
Kap denim from the waist down
Ran shit since 10th grade
And this whole song not bout shit but I doubt this won’t get played
Don’t switch up, you bitch made
Swiss watches, Swiss blades
Swiss cheese in Swiss pockets
Swiss chocolate my bitch face
Calm down don’t get played
Matter fact you need plays
Can’t afford no whip bitch so you left walking like Kinte
That’s TMI
Baby that said that TEA
H-eed this PSA
Neck slowed down TSA
I ain’t need no As ok?
W2 or BFA
I ain’t never had to hid shit, yes my shit straight PDA, lil bitch
(Fye fye, Fye fye, Fye fye)