Gusher - Tec, Money Man

Whole lot of green money, I just like blue hundreds

She just a freak bitch, she toot up too special

I fuck up designer stores, I got a shoe fetish

Fuckin' and fuckin' the finest hoes, they say I’m too petty

I swear whenever it’s time to blow, my Spiders too ready

Whatever in front of 'em, they shootin' at it

Put the TEC on your crew, that’s a group message

And I’m smokin' on Gusher, nigga don’t want no pressure

They think we’ll catch up, they mustard

Condiments off, but they fucked up

Still got them green hundreds, I just like blue better

Broke nigga never seen money, you gotta do better

Tell them hoes less shit, I don’t hear 'em

If a nigga ain’t talkin' no M’s

Tried to tax, bitch, we want in

'Til them packs make the racks come in

Got a dick where the clip go in

Security try to pat us, we don’t even go in

Can’t get the pole in, motherfuck the show then

'Cause it could go down, nigga never go in

You could never know how

We kill 'em and they goin' soft

Then I go and take a bleach bath to wash all the gunpowder off

Hoes fucking the gang for clout

But they don’t get nothin', we change 'em out

When I’m bustin' a nut, I aim for mouth

Like bitch, don’t forget why you came around (Stupid ass ho)

And the shoes that I’m rockin' look like Huarches, but these Versaces

Fresh out the P for watching

Pouring lean, rest in peace Speaker Knockerz

I got a shooter in the car fetish

Plus my money up, so I’m war ready

Say they wanted war 'til they brought pressure

Now they singin' and pissin' like R. Kelly (Them niggas tellin')

I fuck up designer stores, I got a shoe fetish

Fuckin' and fuckin' the finest hoes, they say I’m too petty

I swear whenever it’s time to blow, my Spiders too ready

Whatever in front of 'em, they shootin' at it

Put the TEC on your crew, that’s a group message

And I’m smokin' on Gusher, nigga don’t want no pressure

They think we’ll catch up, they mustard

Condiments off, but they fucked up

Still got them green hundreds, I just like blue better

Broke nigga never seen money, you gotta do better

I fuck your bitch and then I give her back to you

I’m the type to mail a pack to you, yeah

Nine ninety-five for these Balencis

Nigga, don’t step on my shoes, they expensive

And I just bought 'em this morning at Lenox

And I just fucked a bitch in my sauna

Got commas on commas, got blue strip hundreds

These real deal hundreds

These niggas backstabbing, hell nah, I can’t front 'em

Got an F&N 57, nigga be ducking

I’ma shoot him in the face if a nigga start clutching

I just dropped twenty bags on my country ass cousin

Got a bitch at the crib finna give me sweet loving

Nigga, like Big Pun, my pockets be chubby

Got dope boy standards and these bitches to work it

Gotta FaceTime Krit, these diamonds, these bullets

Got fifty P’s of gas from the UPS driver

Nigga say he gon' call me every time he find 'em

Got a brand new choker, I swear it’s gon' blind 'em

If a nigga got a hot song then I might sign 'em

If I think the plug weak then a nigga might try 'em

Just like a bird, them bullets be flyin'

I be in the Porsche, 9−11, I’m flyin'

Shoot the whole group, nigga, everybody dying

I ain’t pickin' up the line, I’m just makin' these dimes

I fuck up designer stores, I got a shoe fetish

Fuckin' and fuckin' the finest hoes, they say I’m too petty

I swear whenever it’s time to blow, my Spiders too ready

Whatever in front of 'em, they shootin' at it

Put the TEC on your crew, that’s a group message

And I’m smokin' on Gusher, nigga don’t want no pressure

They think we’ll catch up, they mustard

Condiments off, but they fucked up

Still got them green hundreds, I just like blue better

Broke nigga never seen money, you gotta do better