Organized Money ft. Fat Fool Lyrics

With the weight you niggas know that i'm prolific

I shoot my shot and you know I got that precision

I feel like Silento with the coupe how I'm whippin'

When I roll it up you know I always mix it

Smoking on three strains I almost burned down the kitchen

Get the money fast, you know with my bills I'm specific

Organize em' straight, you know I gotta get a grip bitch

Woah, you know I count up all my riches

All these hoes it's hard for me to make a decision

Got 5's and 10's, nigga you ain't even worth lickin'

Chillin with Fat Fool and know we smokin' on some shit, bitch

Yuh, Woah, Hold on

I feel like fuck you nigga pay me

If it ain't bout money, what you sayin'

Playing with us like yo life a game

Yea, I do this shit everyday

Fat Fool put a Glock to yo face

So just get the fuck out the way

Woah, yuh, yuh

You know that I'm counting that

Pussy ass lil nigga yea I'm smokin' on that loud pack

You ain't bout that (Woah, yeah)

You know that I'm off that

You ain't with the drama, lil boy, you just talk that, lil bitch

Worry bout yourself

Being concerned with other niggas problems ain't good for your health

Blacked out coupe (yea), Pull up real stealth

You gotta make the best out of the cards that you was dealt

He went broke, guess he gotta blame himself

He want to start some problems? we gon' see what Christ compels

Mama said I reek, it's that top shelf that she smell

New pack just in, I already know how this shit sell (Lil bitch)

(Yea, yea, ugh)

When fuckin' that bitch, I share

I'm passin' her, gang she weared

Putting these slugs in yo gear

I wouldn't dare shoot in the air

Got my heat with Lil Flare

We trynna sneak, the coast was clear

He ball, he think that he serve

Rob his ass on his turf

He got some nerve

Fuckboy, yea I need a perc

Bitches suckin' for shirts

They suckin' for merch

Double back and I triple the price, jus cuz its some purp'

Goyard with the louis shirt, go berserk

He wanna bitch so bad, nigga it will not work