[Hook: Tay B]

Money on the floor with it

Stack it all up and go real ignant

Couple chains on my neck this shit is ignant

You don't even take care of your children

Your baby momma mama think you ignant

Shit, no matter I just gotta get it

Yeah, stack it all up and go real ignant

[Verse 1: Tay B]

Once you reach the top, this shit feel different

You don't like me but you still just gotta deal with it

Cause they don't like me but my music, yeah they still feel it

Pockets still on swole, yeah I still get it

Remix it twice with the stove [?]

Don't talk up on the phone, cause it's real snitches

Some of my chicks like my guns, they got real extensions

Met her at midnight and fucked her it only took a minute

Nigga, it's some shit that I can show you niggas

Pulled up with your bitch, they like no he didn't

They want a lower price so they can go somewhere else to get it

When nigga, really we the only ones with it

Boy, you can't find this who you think you tryin' bitch

Yeah, you let me but you must be out your mind bitch

I ain't trippin' on the money just the time spend

Non chalant bitch, I'm not into nonsense

Label tried to offer 50 bands that's like 5 cents

Aye, whipped out my dick told 'em sign this

They start the song over and hear rewind, bitch

And if y'all ain't talkin' M's you wastin' time, bitch

[Hook: Tay B]

Money on the floor with it

Stack it all up and go real ignant

Couple chains on my neck this shit is ignant

You don't even take care of your children

Your baby momma mama think you ignant

Shit, no matter I just gotta get it

Yeah, stack it all up and go real ignant

No matter I just gotta get it

[Verse 2: Payroll Giovanni]

Chains on my neck, this shit ignant

To some this shit sickening, jealous ass bitches

I'm a Fenkel nigga, gettin' money my religion

Told mama, dem ain't no grits that's in the kitchen

Mama, I been whippin' tryna get a 'Vette

They said I wouldn't be shit, I gotta win this bet

I had beef around the corner so I gotta get a Tec

But he know his boundaries, ain't no comin' on my set

R.I.P. Rogers, you know we still mobbin'

I always been a hustler, while most niggas was robbin'

I'm tryna stuff my pockets got no time for the gossip

Bitches in my face but they just lookin' for a sponsor

Coulda kept it plain but I iced it 'cause I'm ignant

Just made a killing, when? If you blink you missed it

Me winnin' was predicted, some label me a prophet

Re-up money on the floor, on the table is the profit nigga