Show Off - Problem, Manolo Rose, Bad Lucc

Bankroll, real money never fall

Diamond line

Yeah you ain’t know?

I bought 10 gold chains

Yeah, I’m a show off

I’m a show off

I got my weight up

I got my weight up

I’m a show off

You got your weight up

Now you gonna show off

I ain’t got nothing left to prove

Money flow sturdier than a cruise

Ooh, eight hundred a foot walk in my shoe

Crack bitches while hatin' niggas copy my moves

Barkin louder than my weed my G, I still ain’t enthused

Crackin' shows

Pretty talls with their back exposed

Pack a trip

Pack some clothes

You’re tryin' to get there

You ain’t tryin' to sit there

Baby it’s my time

Hustling, watching every step

Like it’s a nail on the floor

Let it wrip

Let it snitch

Ain’t tellin' no more

It was 3 am

I thought his ass was going home

I got the car from Chris

He said his little brother is gone

It’s probably better that the fucking got him

Please help me

I’m trying to find another way

I’m on the high way in search for better days

Flying South-West

Say you wanna get away

Take it how it is

A couple of more sips

I’m just a little nigga

With a big ass drink

Married to the game

And if you’re trying to get your momma

You don’t know right

You can’t see the diamonds in the ice

Raise your hand in the club if you’re the man

If you ain’t talkin' money, baby

Let them know what’s the plan

I be great

It’s bad luck, baby in the fall back

I pull up to the ground

I pull up my crown

I don’t even care

And it’s back to the

I’m just an East Side nigga

Being fly as they can be

365 I’ll be on the ground

I’ll be blowin' their minds