Money Makers ft. Carlito Alpo Lyrics

Bitch, I ain't in to proving shit You can lay down or you gon' get hit

Got Lauto hanging all out the whip

They see him coming, now they gon' dip

If niggas want war I'll send a blitz Out your body, you a walking lick

Don't need nobody, walk with the blick

I'll squeeze that iron I'll let it rip

Walking in public, I feel like Dababy

Itching to lay niggas down like they lazy

Brand new shooter, ain't come with no safety

In and out the water like the Navy

Money done got my wrist on froze

Big deposits money never fold

Life a bitch and that bitch chose And I just hop back in my mode

I don't take no time off Bitch, I need that shit today

I was outside with the P's bitch When the clouds were gray

How you thinking you gon' stop me? silly Bitch you in the way

No I don't need no one around me Gotta feed the fam today

I'ma stunna like Steve Austin Peep the drip, bitch it's gon' cost you

New Niggas always try to cross you

Ask how much? way too often

I don't really do too much talking Aim and bang, bang, back you off me

Wake a nigga up like coffee

Keep that tool on me, they be stalking

Keep that tool on me, nigga, I might burn a hater

Ain't no competition, bitch, you a perpetrator

And you can't stand around me, nigga, you ain't no money maker

Got a problem, hit up Dizzy, he the undertaker

Carlito

Ayy, ain't nothing but some motherfuckin' money comin' through this motherfucker, man

Mix that bowl work with that stove work

All these grams in here gettin' sold first

All these hoes in here gettin' slutted out

My team strong like a Arm and Hammer sign

We get the load in, then we ship it out

If you ain't talking bout no money, you ain't got nothing to talk about

AR right up under the couch Play dumb, then we air that out

Feel like Mad Max off Shottas nigga, Ain't gotta make a sound

My bitch bad and gorgeous

She don't need no makeup nigga I'm Mr. Picasso, I bust on her face, she say that's a perfect picture

We making money, my nigga You cannot play with this shit

We smoking all types of gas, moon rock my favorite

36 flood out the hood, I'm smashing shit like I'm Roadkill

I'm Mr. Miyagi I cook like a hibachi I'm standing on ten like o well

You better back back like Spudwell Our lads ass down, be like, oh well

It's just me and Don we back in the kitchen, we cooking like Rotel