paroles de chanson Getting Paid (feat. Wiz Khalifa) - Trae feat. Wiz Khalifa

Uh, ha ha
We blowing money, bitch

Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, hey
Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, hey
Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, hey
Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, hey
I don't want, I don't want you, bitch
I don't want, I don't want you, bitch

We don't even count the money no more, we just blow it
Ah, we spend it all up
We don't even count the money no more, we just throw it
Ah, and make 'em pick it all up

Money strapped to my waist
Somewhere in the whip I'm in with no bass
Flooded the trap, I need a new place?
Money got to go, I told 'em there's no space
Never love hoes, hoes I don't chase
Only wear loc's the same as my race
All I know is stunt, make a hater feel like shit
To the point that he in another place, real talk

I, I, I ain't the one but I lean on haters
Looking so clean on Gator
Try to jack me, I guarantee
I'll put the beam on haters
Hood nigga, when I come to this I'm stocked up
Shit on my wrist trying to light this block up
Nigga said I got a dope man swag, take a look at these jewels
Every one of 'em rocked up
And we still on the corner packed in
Ace town president something back then
Hope the slut that I'm with got insurance so

She know I'm about to run up on her back end
Like I set of bad ties she was getting plugged
We can take it to the streets, take it to the club
I don't rubber band shit, I got trash bags
Other niggas make it rain, I'ma make it flood
I ain't gonna talk shit, I'ma talk bread
If a hater don't like it, tell 'em drop dead
I'm in the hood like a fresh set of projects
Where they either rock blue or they rock red
I'm the king of the streets
Ain't nobody finna take away what I came to get
Audi R8 that I came is sick
With interior the color of a all white brick

We don't even count the money no more, we just blow it
Ah, we spend it all up
We don't even count the money no more, we just throw it
Ah, and make 'em pick it all up
We don't even count the money no more, we just blow it
Ah, we spend it all up
We don't even count the money no more, we just throw it
Ah, and make 'em pick it all up

Big weed in my joint, diss me, there's no point
Lil' guy but still all my niggas got big heat, they on point
Rolling up while I drive, engine be in the trunk
Decided in 2005 that I can fuck any bitch that I want
Ooh, and, and, and I ain't even trying to stunt
This a two seater, my bitch can't help but ride up in the front
Balling, most niggas won't try to pick 'em up
Throwing so much money you even trying to pick some up

You trying different stuff, look at how I block 'em out
Smoke like a Cali nigga even when I'm in the south
And when, when my car come out, the whores come out
Don't even get on Twitter no more
'Cause I'm what your bitch talking 'bout, ah

We don't even count the money no more, we just blow it
Ah, we spend it all up
We don't even count the money no more, we just throw it
Ah, and make 'em pick it all up
We don't even count the money no more, we just blow it
Ah, we spend it all up
We don't even count the money no more, we just throw it
Ah, and make 'em pick it all up

Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, hey
Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, hey
Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, hey
Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, hey
I don't want, I don't want you, bitch
I don't want, I don't want you, bitch
I don't want, I don't want you, bitch
I don't want, I don't want you, bitch