BROKEY BAG ft. Boyd Money Lyrics

Fuck boy

Shit can get litter than lit boy

I need

Money bag, hunnid cash

Money bag, hunnid cash

Money bag, hunnid cash stashed in a clip

Dummy rack, make it back

Dummy rack, make it back

Dummy rack, make it back quicker than quick

Damn he mad, brokey bag

Damn he mad, brokey bag

Damn he mad, brokey bag pockets so thin

Money bag, hunnid cash

Money bag, hunnid cash

Money bag, hunnid cash hunnid cash aye

Listen nigga

I'm a show you how it do when it come to my city

These niggas be actin talking never walk it out

And still freeze up when they see me

Fuck all that fake shit

These niggas saying they loyal but be acting all shady

I remember every time a nigga passed the dime

These stories be sounding too crazy

Yo bitch on me cause you don't do it right

She on the team every other night

Shit locker room where she suck it right

After school 3 niggas on sight

Cause all these bitches want is an athlete

Make it big gon pay a fee

Say my name yeah first and last

So I know they must've heard about me

In the gym tryna shoot like John

Talking shit and my niggas on

Feeling like I'm Al Capone

Say the word we gon get em gone

Know some niggas that be pocket watching

In ya home straight window shopping

What you got is what we need

And what I mean is I need

I need

Money bag, hunnid cash

Money bag, hunnid cash

Money bag, hunnid cash stashed in a clip

Dummy rack, make it back

Dummy rack, make it back

Dummy rack, make it back quicker than quick

Damn he mad, brokey bag

Damn he mad, brokey bag

Damn he mad, brokey bag pockets so thin

Money bag, hunnid cash

Money bag, hunnid cash

Money bag, hunnid cash hunnid cash

Folding a bitch couldn't be me

I took his jawn, turn him to cuck

She with the flock, yeah she a bird

Bitch when I shoot I tell her duck

Count up the scratch, so much my palms itching

Feather I dust

The chicken I cluck

Chain make yo neck rust

My chain gold dust, that's a bus

Hate niggas, my name Uncle Ruckus

Too fine, fill 20 dimes in a bucket

My chain gon chang a lang, make ruckus

Chang chang, getting paid over here

Name the blunt Missy

Only smoke dutches

Walked in some choo's

She left out with crutches

Too many to choose

Too little to fuck with

She slide me the cooze

Put dough in her oven

To tell you the truth, sorry bae

I need

Milk in the morning

She only get dick when she horny

When I'm in it yeah I'm whipping the foreign

I'll never hit bitches, I send word to Lauren

Pocket few G's, my jeans named after Warren

Motor mouth from the Passion Roc I'm pouring

King like Ramsey, I ain't talking Gordon

Shots of the Remi Martin, that ain't Lawrence yeah

Money bag, hunnid cash

Money bag, hunnid cash

Money bag, hunnid cash stashed in a clip

Dummy rack, make it back

Dummy rack, make it back

Dummy rack, make it back quicker than quick

Damn he mad, brokey bag

Damn he mad, brokey bag

Damn he mad, brokey bag pockets so thin

Money bag, hunnid cash

Money bag, hunnid cash

Money bag, hunnid cash hunnid cash