Old Money Lyrics

Grah grah

Ayy

Hmm

What he saying

Old money in the duffel bag where I used to lay at

Now I got racks in the bed where I stay at

He call me a pussy, you know I don't play that said

I ain't makin' shit, why would they say that

I still ain't find where he at, he better pray that

Yeah, that's my shortie, you know I'ma claim that

It's mine so, of course, I'ma take that

He kept playin', then they got his face clapped

Money in the shoebox, choppa on the floor

Got a drum with a 50 mag, incase we gotta go

You know it's some niggas that ride with the po

And I'm knowin' some niggas that ride with the pole

He gettin' too close, so I tell him step back

Get his shit wacked, knock his shit back, drop a diss track

Gettin' money on the low every day

Keep a k, so I know where to stay

I hang with them killers, I hang with them robbers

I hang with them niggas that do it for fun

I get on the chase it don't help if he run

I pass it to bro and we give and we go

She think she a 10, but we know she a hoe

I'm makin' plays in the field, but I ain't got cleats

Niggas dyin' every day of the week

Ayy, I'm poppin' a hoe, I run with my gun

Know, I'm runnin' and gunnin

amir jeans, with 4k niggas know that I'm stunnin

Got his ass, now he look like a Funyun he must be stupid he messing with me he gotta stupid he runnin' from me hawking niggas down it's meant to be I'm your fate why he fucking with me yeah yeah

I get you shakin', no hesitation

Cook you like bacon

I had you twisted up like dreadlocks

On a Jamaican

I don't play around in this shit

Cause you know it's forsaken

And I know there's hella niggas out here snakin', nigga

Old money in the duffel bag where I used to lay at

Now I got racks in the bed where I stay at

He call me a pussy, you know I don't play that said

I ain't makin' shit, why would they say that

I still ain't find where he at, he better pray that

Yeah, that's my shortie, you know I'ma claim that

It's mine so, of course, I'ma take that

He kept playin', then they got his face clapped

One, two, three, choppa, ready and go

I fuck with this bitch and he don't even know

She told me to be quiet, keep that on the low

Like I'm a baker, just look at my dough

I'm stackin' it up till the bank overflow

With a bag on his head and I get his ass gone

I ain't got a mask, so hurry, come on

I'm fuckin' this bitch, while I'm playin' this song

She givin good brain, she really got knowledge

Think she a scholar, she don't go to college

Pull up in a big body truck, you know that it's up

Stomp em out Carti B, get him stuck

Stupid nigga tryna test his luck

Shot at a nigga woulda hit, but he ducked

Like two big front teeth all we gettin' is bucks

Ayy, what

Ayy, gah, gah, gah

Boom, boom, boom

Ayy, ayy, what