put up numbers Lyrics

How you doing?

I'm Mr. Make Money (Mister get that bag)

I could serve it to you, we could get it jumpin'

You go through that solitude, still came out with nothing

You ain't touch no solid food, boy you all McStuffin

100k up in a duffle

Touch that bag and make it double

I ain't worried bout no bitch I keep my head above that bubble

I'm with twin, I ain't worried, we got switch for causing trouble

Fucked your bitch then copped some thunder

Yeah, this whole summer put up numbers

This a band hit call my drummer

Bitch'll blow us she Osama

Got my kick, Got my Sauna

Pass the kit to me I'm on it

Keep that G23 and farm it

She can't be with me she awkward

Need a freak-a-leek

Diamonds hit unique, I brush my teeth

Cause all them shit talkers catching up to me

I got me weak, this shit getting bleak

You gon' get plucked up take a seat

My twin gon' step some tryna beat

Play the gang, D-I-E it's guaranteed

This shit ain't fair, this shit ain't sweet

I slide in there and sweep your feet

I pop this bear and now I'm geeked

Like who'll dare to step to me

Like, this my world too easy

I clutch my pearl and squeegee

This bitch got fucked too easy

But fuck that hoe ain't preaching

Have some self respect

Diamonds hit your tee then hit your neck

Flood this new Patek

Fucking on your bitch she stupid wet

This shit lucrative

Don't treat this shit like a practice test

Just remember it

Know lil Winta taught you all the best

More like Wimbledon

I get racks don't even touch the net

He a simpleton

Ask how I get racks even stress

Riding dirty then

Bitch we got them birdies get him stretched

I feel like dirty dan

That boy keep on bitching I don't understand

I'm that nigga

Keep that fucker rolling, keep on all the cams

Touch your wallet touch your hands

Spread some gwalla touch my bands

Alcoholic not my mans

Throw it up and watch em dance

She got ass behind the pants

On the wall throw up your hands

This shit just like haunted mansion

Want some smoke we answer call

Why'd you get my mans involved?

Winta make her panties drop

Hit the bank then hit the box

This bitch wan' fuck cause my locs huh

Woah woah, woah woah, woah woah

How you doing?

I'm Mr. Make Money (I just flip them rackaids)

I could serve it to you, we could get it jumpin'

You go through that solitude, still came out with nothing

You ain't touch no solid food, boy you all McStuffin

And I know you hungry

(And I know you hungry)