MoMA Lyrics

Tell me mama "I think Ima blow up", It's a feeling I cannot deny

Paint that boy up he gone be in the MoMA, I need a milly before Ima die

Hop in the coupe let's fly, Prada t's and dotting my i's

Paint that boy up he gone be in the MoMA, I need a milly before Ima die

Getting too hot, I think I need to simmer down

Run it up, I'm getting a big amount

In love with the money, don't need a spouse

Bought a crib but I'm never at the house

Running 'round got a bag on me

New bitch bad and she stay on fleek

Smoking on pack came from New Z

She go both ways, she rock CC

I got a whole band inside of my pocket

Running it up Ima blast like a rocket

I got a stick and shawty wanna cock it

If you ever leave just know I got options

Okay let's go, bad bitch give me throat

Posted with a pole, keep a scope

Scalp him medical, fendi on my coat

Keep that 9 right on top of me

Move to fast, you ain't stopping me

Suck me down, give me sloppy bih

Change the frame, crop you out of it

(yeah, yeah)

Tell me mama "I think Ima blow up", It's a feeling I cannot deny

Paint that boy up he gone be in the MoMA, I need a milly before Ima die

Hop in the coupe let's fly, Prada T's and dotting my i's

Paint that boy up he gone be in the MoMA, I need a milly before Ima die