Текст песни Money Grown - AntDaDon

Yeah, yeah, ah, yeah, ah Yeah, I'm finna terrorize these niggas

I'm scorchin' these niggas, I'm bringin' the flame
We scorin' on niggas, we don't play no games
Got a hundred on me, baby, I'm hall of fame
I just walked in the club with them bills, made it rain
When I met you, I knew that you niggas was lame
I'm a GOAT in this shit, so don't mention my name
I'm fuckin' on baddest of hoes and the baddest of bitches
And I don't even know they name

You lovin' these bitches, you lovin' these hoes0
I'm dubbin' these bitches, I'm countin' this dough
Money on me, got the trap on the go
Told these lil' niggas I'm back, gettin these bows
I heard he want anna, I heard he want smoke
Nigga, we puttin' all that shit on the floor
From the hood to a mansion, was kickin them doors

Now look at us, lil baby, this money done grown
Now look at us, lil baby, this money done grown
This money done grown
Now look at us, lil baby, this money done grown
This money done grown
Now look at us, lil baby, this money done grown
This money done grown
Now look at us, lil baby, this money done grown
This money done grown

Condo crib, yeah, it's too spacious Fuckin' on a white ho, no, I'm not racist
Overseas trip, when I want a vacation
Playin' game with these hoes, I don't play a PlayStation
You ain't never seen my face in a police station
I Put some ice in my watch, yeah, that shit there glacier
Smashed on that hoe and I gave her a facial
I'm Fuckin' all these hoes, cus this shit up in my nature

I'll never fall off, I got this money, just scroll through my call log
I told that bitch I'm the boss, I can't call off
Country nigga might do hits with a sawed-off
Shoot in my shot every day, I'ma ball out
I'm better than niggas, I don't need a shout-out
Im quick on the draw, nigga, yeah, I'll spazz out
You lame when you see the hoes pull your cash out

Yeah, go get the bag, go get the bag, run it up faster
Young nigga been stackin' that cash, I'm runnin' up bags, I feel like the FASFA
I got a lil' bitch, she like eatin' up dick yeah, she can't catch her breath, she got asthma
You was above me and now I shot past ya
I'm droppin' this game on these niggas like Pastors
Whips in the yard, yeah, I feel like a master
Yeah, I'm fuckin' your bitch, you ain't even gotta ask her
Cartier frames when I put on some glasses
I like that shit natural, I don't fuck with plastic
You fuckin' with us, yeah, this shit can get nasty
We always keep rockets, ain't scared to blast em
Drippin' and walkin' up in latest fashion
I need to slow down, cause I'm gettin' too flashy, yeah