Текст песни Blood All On it (feat. Key Glock, Young Dolph) - Young Dolph , Key Glock , Gucci Mane

(Let the BandPlay)
Yeah, yeah, uh, yeah, uh, yeah, uh
Okay, ayy

Cash out if I want it (for real, though)
The money got blood all on it (for real, though)
The money got blood all on it, yeah
The money got blood all on it (for real, though)
Bad with me on it (for real, though)
N- wanna be me, don't it?
But the money got blood all on it
Yeah, the money got blood all on it (hey)

My young ready to shoot (damn)
'Cause they ain't got nothin' to lose (damn)
He said, it's everybody and f- everything, he got somethin' to prove (damn)
In the trenches pullin' moves (got 'em)
A hundred racks in blues (Franks)
In a shoebox, hell nah, them ain't no motherf- shoes
(Racks, ayy, what you do, n-?)

Took the motor out a 'Vette put it in a Chevelle (switch it up)
Do my dirt all by myself 'cause these gon' tell (I swear)
She look like God sent her from Heaven but she fine as hell (bad)
I'm sendin' strong to five states, man, I just broke my scale (uh)
Lil' cuz just caught a murder charge and I just post his bail (yeah)
Doing donuts in a 'Rari, I'm a major player (skrrt)
Send bags to the hood and to the opps I send some shells (yeah)

Never talk on a phone and never leave a paper trail
Super bad with a body like Buffy (woah)
Went to see my jeweler, spent a million like it's nothin' (a million)
I got on too much ice, she caught the flu when she me (uh)
Plain jane Richard Mille, I told my jeweler, "Bust it"

Cash out if I want it (for real, though)
The money got blood all on it (for real, though)
The money got blood all on it, yeah
The money got blood all on it (for real, though)
Bad with me on it (for real, though)
N- wanna be me, don't it?
But the money got blood all on it
Yeah, the money got blood all on it (hey)

My young niggas ready to shoot (damn)
'Cause they ain't got nothin' to lose (damn)
He said, "F- everybody and f- everything, he got somethin' to prove (damn)
In the trenches pullin' moves (got 'em)
A hundred racks in blues (Franks)
In a shoebox, hell nah, them ain't no motherf- shoes (racks)

At the top where it get real lonely
Just might put a dub on homie
New Phantom with the Forgis on it (forgis)
And the paint got blood all on it (ah)
These n- ain't eatin', they starvin' (nah)
I can see 'cause they crew gettin' boney
These suckers do nothing but clout chase
These boys just some one-trick ponies (p-)

Man, is rap game so damn phony
These niggas a bunch of Jabronies
Everything you got, they want it
That's why I'm still up on it
Just told my hitter, he on it
N- better break fast like Shoney's
And I got my bag like Tony
These wanna clone me, don't it? (Huh)

I went from ridin' a V12, switched it up
In now my motor electric (switched it up)
I stacked up way more millions than haters expected
You gotta shoot for your respect, that's how you send a message (bah, baow)
You gotta do, you gotta do to keep family protected (it's Gucci)

Cash out when I want it, yeah (huh)
These know how I'm comin', yeah
Know how I'm comin', yeah (yeah)
The know how I'm comin' (why they call you Tony?)
'Cause I pop by my lonely (fah)
Pocket full of Crip-blue hunnids, yeah
Money got blood all on it (yeah, yeah)

Yeah, I'm the one, not the two (two), I turn a one to a two (two)
I'm havin' racks, yeah, I got the bag, yeah, I put the bag on you, you
I put the bag on you too, inside my Hellcat ragù

I'm goin' nuts, I keep me a tool (yeah)
They like this young n- a loose screw
Yeah, took the doors off my McLaren, put it on my Urus, ayy (phew, phew)
Don't compare me to no rapper 'cause these weird, ayy
They done pissed me off, it's all up in my urine, ayy (wock', Wock')
When it come to shootin' shit, my jumper be the purest

Cash out if I want it (b-, for real, though)
Nigga got blood all on it (yeah, for real, though)
The money got blood all on it, yeah (yeah)
The money got blood all on it (for real, though, yeah)
Bad with me on it (for real, though)
N- wanna be me, don't it? (Huh, ha)
But the money got blood all on it
Yeah, the money got blood all on it (yeah, yeah, hey)

My young ready to shoot (damn)
'Cause they ain't got nothin' to lose (damn)
He said, it's everybody and everything, he got somethin' to prove (damn)
In the trenches pullin' moves (got 'em)
A hundred racks in blues (Franks)
In a shoebox, hell nah, them ain't no motherf- shoes (racks)