R.O.T.Y

I got money on my mind, I'm chasing dollar signs

You was never one of mines, don't come around, get left behind

Remember I was tryna flip a pack, ain't had no scale I was eyein

Bitch, I told you what it was from the jump, so why the fuck you cryin

Nike's on my feet, no, I ain't grow up with no Jordan

I was bippin' in a hoopie, finna upgrade to a foreign

This bitch talk a lot, but never talk about none, she's so boring

I'ma fuck her for the night, kick her out first thing in the morning

Niggas never make no profit, but they swear to get it gone

All I know is money, hoes, and drugs, I say that in every song