Lyrics Bank Account (Mixed) - 21 Savage

I buy a new car for the bitch (for real)
I tear down the mall with the bitch (for real)
You can't even talk to the bitch (no)
She fucking with bosses and shit (oh, God)
I pull up in 'Rari's and shit,
With choppers and Harley's and shit (for real)
I be Gucci'd down, Gucci
You wearing Lacoste and shit (bitch)

Yeah, Moncler, yeah, fur came off of that, yeah (yeah)
Triple homicide, put me in a chair, yeah (in jail)
Triple cross the plug, we do not play fair, yeah (Oh, God)
Got 'em tennis chains on and they real blingy (blingy)

Draco make you do the chicken head like Chingy (Chingy)
Walk in Neiman Marcus and I spend a light fifty (fifty)
Please proceed with caution, shooters, they be right with me (21)
Bad bitch, cute face and some nice titties

Seventy-five hundred on a Saint Laurent jacket (yeah)
Bitch, be careful where you dumpin' your ashes (bitch)
I ain't no sucker, I ain't cuffin' no action (nah)
The skreets raised me, I'm a whole bastard (wild, wild, wild, wild)

I bought a 'Rari just so I can go faster (skrrt)
Niggas tryna copy me, they playin' catch up (21)
I might pull up in a Ghost, no Casper (21)
I been smoking gas and I got no asthma

I got 1-2-3-4-5-6-7-8 Ms in my bank account, yeah (Oh, God)
In my bank account, yeah (Oh, God)
In my bank account, yeah (Oh, God)
In my bank account, yeah (Oh, God)
In my bank account, yeah (Oh, God)
In my bank account, yeah (Oh, God)

I got 1-2-3-4-5-6-7-8 shooters ready to gun you down, yeah (fast)
Ready to gun you down, yeah (Oh, God)
Ready to gun you down, yeah (Oh, God)
Ready to gun you down, yeah (Oh, God)
Ready to gun you down, yeah (Oh, God)
Ready to gun you down, yeah (Oh, God)

Yeah dog nuh for real, dog (21)
Straight up out the 6, now got a house in the Hills, dog (21)
Wanna see a body, nigga? Get you killed, dog (wet)
Wanna tweet about me, nigga? Get you killed, dog (wet)

Killed dog, I'm a real dog (21), you a lil' dog (21)
Be a dog, wanna be a dog, chasing mil's, dog
Dunk right in your bitch like O'Neal, dog (wet)
That shit I shoot like Reggie Mill', dog (21)
Chopper sting you like a eel, dog (fast)

I got 1-2-3-4-5-6-7-8 Ms in my bank account, yeah (Oh, God)
In my bank account, yeah (Oh, God)
In my bank account, yeah (Oh, God)
In my bank account, yeah (Oh, God)
In my bank account, yeah (Oh, God)
In my bank account, yeah (Oh, God)

I got 1-2-3-4-5-6-7-8 shooters ready to gun you down, yeah (fast)
Ready to gun you down, yeah (Oh, God)
Ready to gun you down, yeah (Oh, God)
Ready to gun you down, yeah (Oh, God)
Ready to gun you down, yeah (Oh, God)
Ready to gun you down, yeah (Oh, God)

Ruler clip—umm—sent a ruler hit
Pull up on your bitch, she say that I got that ruler dick
Spray your block down, we not really with that ruh-rah shit
Glock cocked now, I don't really give no fuck 'bout who I hit

Yeah, your bitch, she get jiggy with me
Keep that Siggy with me
Bitch, I'm Mad Max, you know I got Ziggy with me
Keep a mad mag in case a nigga wanna get busy with me
'Rari matte black and I got a Bentley with me

I got 1-2-3-4-5-6-7-8 Ms in my bank account, yeah (Oh, God)
In my bank account, yeah (Oh, God)
In my bank account, yeah (Oh, God)
In my bank account, yeah (Oh, God)
In my bank account, yeah (Oh, God)
In my bank account, yeah (Oh, God)

I got 1-2-3-4-5-6-7-8 shooters ready to gun you down, yeah (fast)
Ready to gun you down, yeah (Oh, God)
Ready to gun you down, yeah (Oh, God)
Ready to gun you down, yeah (Oh, God)
Ready to gun you down, yeah (Oh, God)
Ready to gun you down, yeah (Oh, God)

Seventy-five hundred on a Saint Laurent jacket
Bitch, be careful where you dumpin' your ashes
I ain't no sucker, I ain't cuffin' no action
The streets raised me, I'm a whole bastard