Testo Boss Table - Baby Money
Testo della canzone Boss Table (Baby Money), tratta dall'album Young N***a Old Soul
(Oo, Steve-O did this one)
Easy money
(Steve-O got the Midas touch) ayy
I'ma make Ben Franklin my best man, hundred on my left hand (yeah)
I'm 'bout to start droppin' bodies like the best friends (they gone)
If you ain't standin' on what's blue, you get stretched then (that's on Crip)
They call your boy the beach master how I stretch tan
It's weight season, made a million with my fat man (that's a fact)
Erotic City day shift, it's like eight Lams
I need some zip sauce, 50 get you picked off (you feel me?)
I'm pourin' rose on her face like she Chris Bosh
That nigga dumb, spent all that money on a wristwatch (so?)
That ain't the one, take it back, 'cause that bitch ticktock (that bitch fake)
Wanna be famous, I'ma fuck the bitch on TikTok
Yeah, we got it out the mud, but we lit now (on my mama)
A big guy, crashed the coupe, then I switch drops
It's all bosses at this table, you can't sit down
I asked that nigga for a tester, and he sent pounds (yeah)
These niggas talk about the past, bitch, we rich now
A big guy, crashed the coupe, but then I switched drops
(Ayy, FNFRTC, easy money, nigga)
It's all bosses at this table, you can't sit down
(I'm only eatin' with the niggas I started with, on Sosa)
I asked that nigga for a tester, and he sent pounds
(Ayy, he sent a thousand of 'em, we front line with this shit)
These niggas talk about the past, bitch, we rich now
(Let's see you stack that shit up and stop talkin' 'bout last year)
Yeah, young nigga ballin', pointers, 30 on my right wrist
This hard work, came from servin' through the night shift
This dog barkin', I be steppin' on this Mike Vick
Servin' all them white chicks, Curry if you try shit
My 'fit five thousand, niggas scary with this fly shit
Yeah, I'll leave it all in the bank like four, five, six
A nigga disrespect the gang, then he die quick
You was ridin' 'round lookin' for us, she was ridin' dick
My niggas 'bout a Five-seveN and he 5'6"
And that boy a chef with the chopper, he'll fry your bitch
If you don't go and do shit, nigga, you gotta leave
I'm 23, but big homie to a lot of niggas
A big guy, crashed the coupe, but then I switched drops
(Ayy, FNFRTC, easy money, nigga)
It's all bosses at this table, you can't sit down
(I'm only eatin' with the niggas I started with, on Sosa)
I asked that nigga for a tester, and he sent pounds
(Ayy, he sent a thousand of 'em, we front line with this shit)
These niggas talk about the past, bitch, we rich now
(Let's see you stack that shit up and stop talkin' 'bout last year)
Credits
Writer(s): Carlos Fischer
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