I'm like, "hey, what's up, hello"
Seen yo pretty ass soon as you came in the door
I just wanna chill, got a sack for us to roll
Married to the money, introduced her to my stove
Showed her how to whip it, now she remix it for low
She my trap queen, let her hit the bando
We be counting up, watch how far them bands go
We just set a goal, talking matching lambos
At 56 a gram, 5 a hundred grams though
Man, I swear I love her how she work that damn pole
Hit the strip club, we be letting bands go
Everybody hating, we just call them fans though
In love with the money, I ain't never letting go