Lyrics
Yeah, yeah, yeah
If you put money over bitches, okay-okay (okay-okay), that's the right movement
This that rubber band the money (yeah, that's the right movement), yeah, this that ice music (this that ice music)
Most these niggas Instаgrаm gangstas, they just type shootin' ('em niggas type shootin')
Had my youngin spin the block (bah-bah-bah), 'cause they like shootin' ('em niggas like shootin')
Yeah, uh, yeah
If you put money over bitches, okay-okay (okay-okay), that's the right movement (that's the right movement)
This that rubber band the money (yeah, rubber band), yeah, this that ice music (this that ice music)
Most these niggas Instаgrаm gangstas, they just type shootin' (they just type shootin')
Had my youngin spin the block (bah-bah-bah), 'cause they like shootin' (they like shootin')
We the 41 Boyz (we the 41 Boyz), presidential, the Obama gang (Obama gang)
Came in this bitch with racks on me, and a diamond chain (yeah, a diamond chain)
Catch 'em at the light, think this a game? This shit not a game (yeah, at the light, do it, bah-bah-bah)
Hit 'em with the flame, it go bang, then it's bye-bye gang (bang-bang)
Catch a rap nigga out in public, take his ice off (ay, gimme that fuckin' ice)
My left pocket all blue, look like the Nightcrawler (shit look like Nightcrawler, haha)
Pulled up in some shit, superfast, 'cause I don't like walkin' (yeah, I don't like walkin')
I like countin' cash and drinkin' lean, I don't like talkin' (boy shh, don't talk)
Go 'head make the wrong move, I swear this shit gon' jump off (this shit gon' jump off)
We send a hunnid shots, you ain't survivin', you ain't Young Dolph (fuckin' figgy, Young Dolph)
Walk inside my closet, you gon' think you in the Louis store (yeah, in the Louis store)
Fell in love with racks, told my last bitch I was movin' on (I'm movin' on)
You know where I'm at, I'm in the trap, yeah, I stay trappin' (yeah, I stay trappin')
Niggas they be cap, in they raps, yeah, they stay bappin' ('em niggas cap)
In the kitchen with some real dawg, this ain't no cake batter (yeah, real dawg)
No security, I'm with lil' broski, he the face cracker (he the face cracker)
Yeah (bah), yeah (bah), yeah
Just left the bank with so much cash, this bitch think I robbed it (yeah, they think I robbed it)
I put the down the basketball, and I picked up the choppa (choppa)
We the big opps, we get the drop, we the droppers (yeah, we the droppers), uh, yeah
If you put money over bitches, okay-okay, that's the right movement (yeah, okay-okay)
This that rubber band the money (that's the right movement), yeah, this that ice music (this that ice music)
Most these niggas Instаgrаm gangstas, they just type shootin' (they type shootin')
Had my youngin spin the block, 'cause they like shootin' (bah, bah, bah, niggas like shootin')
We the 41 Boyz (we the 41 Boyz), presidential, the Obama gang (Obama gang)
Came in this bitch with racks on me, and a diamond chain (yeah, diamond chain)
Catch 'em at the light, think this a game? This shit not a game (yeah, at the light, do it, bah, bah, bah)
Hit 'em with the flame, it go bang, then it's bye-bye gang
We the big opps (yeah, we the big opps), we get the drop, we the droppers, nigga (we the droppers)
Shawty wanna check, fuck a check, I'm not that nigga (I'm not that nigga)
Catch my broski killer, shoot his face, and I will not stop blickin' (bah, bah, bah, bah)
Pull up for the three, I won't miss it, I'm not Ben Simmons
Drop a fuckin' bomb on top ya block, shit like TNT (bah, bah, bah, bah)
Disrespect us, you D-I-E, get put to B-E-D
Had my youngins come through, air this shit out like a BNB (phew)
All black suburban trucks and Benzos, this the CLE (yeah, this CLE)
They said, "What's yo' name?", yeah, I'm the GOAT (yeah, I'm the GOAT), what the fuck you think? (Fuck you think?)
I sip so much drink, when I bleed, I think my blood pink (uh)
.40 hit his face, then hit his chest, he do the Harlem shake (yeah)
Yeah, he caught a body, but then he told, and that shit dropped his rank (yeah)
You know where I'm at, I'm in the trap, yeah, I stay trappin' (yeah, I stay trappin')
Niggas they be cap, in they raps, yeah, they stay bappin' ('em niggas cap)
In the kitchen with some real dawg, this ain't no cake batter (yeah, that's real dawg)
No security, I'm with lil' broski, he the face cracker (he the face cracker)
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah, yeah
Countin' up the 500 20s