[hook:]
Work on the kitchen table
Where the bags at [x3]

Work [x2]

Imma nigga wit money [x3]
And i don't love dat bitch

I tell er bitch, bitch, bitch, bitch make me rich
Imma nigga wit money
And i don't love dat bitch

[verse 1:]
Yea, backpack full of stacks all the bitches love me
Don't compare to these rappers im on a diff'rent budget

I ain't even gotta practice never gettin rusty
No i ain't lookin down but i see no one above me

The paper bag brown wit durty green money
The bank acount good full of clean money

Fuck chain money, i blow ring money
I bet that motha fucka neva see tha big money

Magazine money do a spread on me
And you can turn ya back but never turn the feds on me

Read the note attached we got ya lil homey
We need bread homey or das ya dead homey

Im like a cordionni (not sure) meet the fucking mob
I can get you whacked or give ya ass a job

Weezy f. b. i holla cmb
Coca cola classic caffine free

[hook]

[verse 2:]
Stop playing wit me stop playin wit me bitch
Stop playing wit me stop playing wit me bitch

Imma cash money stunna on my 14 summa
Dick a bitch down n take erry thang from er

Now run to tha kitchen i ain't hungry i ate
Bitch put 36 o's on my plate

See my paw wuz cookin slabs while my mom wuz cookin dinner
See my momma iz a cheif n my daddy wuz a dealer

Grand daddy was a dealer and my auntie is a killer
I hope she kno i luv her, pray the pigs never get er

My brother still a baby n my uncle kinda raised me
Yaw pray for his wife cuz dat cancer shit iz crazy

My daughters so smart that it scares me
Her mother is an angel she's always there for me

And me im just wild i think i need theropy
B-cuz im goin after dat money no matter where it be

[hook]