Lyrics Cash App (feat. Jackboy) - Dee Watkins , Jackboy

What′s your cash app?
What's your cash app?
Bitch, what′s your cash app?
Don't be trippin' off a cash app
Bitch, what′s your cash app
All that paper, what′s your cash app?
Lil' D
Uh

They like, "Damn, what the fuck
How you do that?"
They tellin′ me to chill with the tool
I say, "Screw that"
But put the guns down I have beat a nigga blue, black
I been there had a tik, no IG
But you knew that
Yeah you motherfuckin' knew

Hell yeah, bitch you knew
I took the condom off
′Cause I'm fucking with your boo
I hate to see you go though I don′t really need a crew
I'm ten toes down like the bottom of my shoe

Ok
Racks in my jeans, I got racks in my backpack
Told that bitch to leave
She ain't nothin′ but a knack, knack
I ain′t got no pressure with ya baby
I don't have that
Oh, you want some thirty-inch bundles?
What′s your cash app?

Twelve get behind me
I ain't trippin′ this a scat pack
I just got into it with my doll but we past that
I be in the lab going hard I'ma lab rat
She a whole face cute in the ass vat

Damn, why your bitch won′t leave me alone?
Uh, why she keep on blowing up my phone?
Uh, I'm a crop 'em out and get ′em goin′
I won't make you famous I won′t diss you in no song
I'm rolling, pencil totin′, window pokin'
Smokin′, got me talkin', this important
Hold it, don't let him in the building
I don′t know him
Roll him, like a Backwood, I′ma smoke him

They like, "Damn, what the fuck
How you do that?"
They tellin' me to chill with the tool
I say, "Screw that"
But put the guns down I have beat a nigga blue, black
I been there had a tik, no IG
But you knew that
Yeah you motherfuckin′ knew

Hell yeah, bitch you knew
I took the condom off
'Cause I′m fucking with you boo
I hate to see you go though I don't really need a crew
I′m ten toes down like the bottom of my shoe

I fuck for every yeah
Type of nigga to fuck her raw and fill her up with plan-B's
Type of nigga to fuck her raw until act like she don't know me
Type of nigga when I′m through with her she do the hommies
I′m the typpe of nigga I don't know what to do with ′em
I keep it on me
Ridin' in the space, cool, mama I′m lonely
Parkas on, overweight you niggas gettin' boney
Parkas on, he ran the plates, they need a shine to clone me

Uh-uh, you niggas can′t clone this
Just spent 20k camo-fied Dior outfit
We flyin' PJ booth from the project
I put cheese on your head like Aaron Rodgers
You think I'm in the fashion
I be throwin′ bullets, Lamar Jackson
Runnin′ in the Philly, you in traffic
Might just sent a bitch, automatic, kill whole clip, no flaggin'
My nigga took the hit and the wagon

They like, "Damn, what the fuck
How you do that?"
They tellin′ me to chill with the tool
I say, "Screw that"
But put the guns down I have beat a nigga blue, black
I been there had a tik, no IG
But you knew that
Yeah you motherfuckin' knew

Hell yeah, bitch you knew
I took the condom off
′Cause I'm fucking with your boo
I hate to see you go though I don′t really need a crew
I'm ten toes down like the bottom of my shoe