[Verse 1: Jorge Vidrio]

Lately I've been feeling like I'm falling to pieces

I give half my whole life to getting high and losing sleep

Pick me up, put me down

Breath it in, let it down

Acid rain, smoke clouds

Get away, still brown, uh

Half man and half gram, smoke out of me

Can't sit still, somebody beat my ass for me

I'm still too broke to afford that mustard

Place bets now, will he ever muster?

The metal, the mettle, the mind

The setting, the place and the time

To settle for nothing that's not manipulation

I want (money, money)

Please (money, money)

These voices in my head, they need that green

[Chorus: Jorge Vidrio]

Money, money

I want money in my jeans

'Cause my jeans ain't got money to spend on me

Money, money

I want money for my dreams cause these thoughts in my head

They don't come for free

Money, money

I want money in my jeans

'Cause my jeans ain't got money to spend on me

Money, money

I want money for my dreams cause these thoughts in my head

They don't come for free, money

[Verse 2: Franklin]

Light skin nigga in the set

But not Sofia Ritchie color, I keep money on mon tête

Nigga, debts outweigh lives, don't fuck with me

We curry, don't take kindly to threats

On the telephone, flex all you want

When I'm coming down next you gon' catch fist

Intersect face, take your jaw from you

Make some bitch install brakes so I can beat them off you

Keep it up often, no stopping on the steps

Overhead, brass crack, think fast, nah I'm playing, but bet you crashed

And you're that guy who's supposed to be on cash?

Don't wanna Bobby Shmurda me, so talking hypothetically

If I'm wearing nice shoes, then I better watch the splash

[Chorus: Jorge Vidrio]

Money, money

I want money in my jeans

'Cause my jeans ain't got money to spend on me

Money, money

I want money for my dreams cause these thoughts in my head

They don't come for free

Money, money

I want money in my jeans

'Cause my jeans ain't got money to spend on me

Money, money

I want money for my dreams cause these thoughts in my head

They don't come for free, money

[Verse 3: renzo]

Bitch better have my money

One for the broads, little more for the honeys

Funny, I remember when I wasn’t cuffing

I remember when the bread didn’t have a number

Nowadays hunger turned to starving for the paper

Now I major into something that won’t benefit me later, hater

I'm the type of guy that you could mow down

Colt .45 in my mouth, going blow-blow

What about now?

Hardly can afford to keep on lackin'

I'm a stunner you can’t keep trackin'

Findin’ ways through every back end, hoe what’s crackin'

How ya doin’? Bye bitch, see ya

Lookin’ like a priest, bitch I'm your favorite preacher, hallelujah

Keep it g, but I got no shooters

Who done did the things that i wouldn’t conceive of

Not workin' 9 to 5, but I stay keeping the cheese up

Go and hit my line

But don’t crawl back for the prenup