Текст песни Overload - Money Man , Benny The Butcher
Talkin'
numbers
on
my
phone
Realness
in
my
chromosomes
Pickin'
up
another
load
Buying
GALA,
staking
CRO
Can't
front
him
'cause
his
trap
too
slow
Weighin'
bags
up,
watch
him
blow
Crazy
how
a
nigga
turn
on
you
if
you
tell
him
no
You
can't
get
caught
lackin'
in
these
streets,
you
gotta
stay
on
go
Man,
these
niggas
fruity,
boy,
don't
make
me
split
your
cantaloupe
Tell
me,
how
can
niggas
enjoy
livin'
when
they
out
here
dead
broke?
Tesla,
Dodge,
switchin'
whips
Crypto,
trap,
I
double
dip
Only
stock
magazines,
we
ain't
doin'
aftermarket
clips
Shorty
got
a
crazy
body,
I
love
her
face,
I
love
her
hips
Should
I
take
the
plug
off?
Right
now,
I'm
on
the
fence
We
gon'
crush
our
competition,
we
the
wrong
ones
to
go
against
I
know
Keisha
gon'
be
right
there
if
I
sit
down,
and
I
do
a
stint
I
can't
say
the
same
for
none
of
these
hoes
'cause
these
hoes
temporary
I'm
pushin'
this
Maybach
right
now
even
though
it's
January
I
know
lil'
bro'll
never
fold
Shooter
ain't
gon'
never
fold
Just
'cause
it
glitter,
don't
mean
it's
gold
Make
sure
you
pay
me
what
I'm
owed
My
trap
jumpin'
like
a
toad
Trackhawk
fuckin'
up
the
road
The
price
gon'
dump
on
this
coin
tomorrow,
'cause
right
now,
this
shit
oversold
Too
many
strains
inside
the
'partment
right
now,
this
is
our
overload
I'm
just
tryna
take
the
globe
Right
now,
bitch,
I'm
in
that
mode
Blowin'
up,
I
might
explode
HODL,
gotta
hold
Buy
the
dip,
don't
never
FOMO
Need
them
racks,
I
need
'em
pronto
Talkin'
numbers
on
my
phone
Realness
in
my
chromosomes
Pickin'
up
another
load
Buying
GALA,
staking
CRO
Can't
front
him
'cause
his
trap
too
slow
Weighin'
bags
up,
watch
him
blow
Crazy
how
a
nigga
turn
on
you
if
you
tell
him
no
You
can't
get
caught
lackin'
in
these
streets,
you
gotta
stay
on
go
Man,
these
niggas
fruity,
boy,
don't
make
me
split
your
cantaloupe
(yeah)
Tell
me,
how
can
niggas
enjoy
livin'
when
they
out
here
dead
broke?
(Yeah,
uh)
Real
niggas
inspire
me,
just
pages
out
my
diary
I
waited
for
it,
finally,
it's
my
turn,
the
irony
I
used
to
be
fed
up
with
this
rap
shit
entirely
(I
was
done)
A
few
million
later,
I'm
still
a
menace
to
society
The
streets
need
trappers
and
these
beats
need
classics
And
if
hate
like
promotion,
I
guess
my
street
team
rappers
(nigga)
I'm
good,
you
make
a
call,
I
make
a
call,
then
look
out
'cause
them
bricks
comin'
Just
be
waitin'
outside
in
the
front
like
your
lift
comin'
(huh?)
You
made
a
few
chips,
but
still
ain't
teachin'
your
clique
nothin'
(nothin')
You
can't
fool
my
bitch,
she
know
the
Maybach
the
600
(rrr)
Rollies
for
the
team,
nigga,
only
was
a
dream,
nigga
Money
out
the
streets
ain't
the
same
as
a
clean
million
BET
Awards
show,
I
was
used
to
court
clothes
My
crib
got
a
courtyard,
I'm
courtside,
just
formal
My
bitch
not
that
regular,
my
watch
not
that
normal
Jewels,
I
got
a
half
on,
mask
on
like
Zorro
Every
chance,
I'ma
ball
When
my
manager
call
You
know
I'm-
Talkin'
numbers
on
my
phone
Realness
in
my
chromosomes
Pickin'
up
another
load
Buying
GALA,
staking
CRO
Can't
front
him
'cause
his
trap
too
slow
Weighin'
bags
up,
watch
him
blow
Crazy
how
a
nigga
turn
on
you
if
you
tell
him
no
You
can't
get
caught
lackin'
in
these
streets,
you
gotta
stay
on
go
Man,
these
niggas
fruity,
boy,
don't
make
me
split
your
cantaloupe
Tell
me,
how
can
niggas
enjoy
livin'
when
they
out
here
dead
broke?
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