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24 (remix) - Money man Lyrics


By: Admin | Artist: M money man | Published: 2024-20-09T09:52:02:00+07:00
24 (remix) - Money man LyricsLirikku.ID - 24 (remix) - Money man Lyrics: Halo Lirikku.ID, Dalam konten ini, kami menyediakan chord gitar untuk lagu "24 (remix) - Money man Lyrics" yang dinyanyikan oleh Toton M money man. Dengan chord yang disajikan, pemula atau penggemar musik dapat dengan mudah memainkan lagu ini dengan gitar mereka sendiri. Kami menyajikan chord dengan akurasi tinggi sehingga pemain dapat mengikuti alunan musiknya dengan baik. Juga, kami akan memberikan informasi tambahan mengenai lirik lagu dan mungkin beberapa tips untuk menyempurnakan permainan gitar. Konten ini cocok untuk penggemar musik yang ingin belajar lagu baru atau bagi mereka yang ingin menikmati kesenangan bermain musik dengan gitar. Silahkan disimak 24 (remix) - Money man Lyrics Berikut Dibawah ini untuk Selanjutnya.

[intro]
(yo, nflated, spice that b*tch up)

[chorus: money man]
burnin’ on lilikoi, ashes look corduroy
r.i.p. kobe bryant, r.i.p. 24
i can make a cool 50k in less than twenty*four hours
ridin’ with the pack through the tennessee mountains
vpn, socks, and at least three routers
i’ma thumb through it, i don’t need no counter
had to resuscitate a b*tch, my neck almost drowned her
i got oil, i got hemp, i got wax, i got flower
burnin’ on pre*roll, finna go to pluto
drippin’ real hard when i’m hoppin’ out two*door
i just met a psychedelic plug named hugo
thirty laptops in my motherf*ckin’ condo
white collar diamonds, n*gga ballin’ like lonzo
these n*ggas overrated like joe flacco
feelin’ like jim jones, n*gga, i’m a capo
i’ma flip a rolls*royce, i’m feelin’ like pop smoke

[verse 1: money man]
banana cream cake in my motherf*ckin’ hemp wrap
if i don’t like the smell, then the pack get sent back
if i don’t like his energy, i push a n*gga sh*t back
making hash oil, listening to bank, big facts
making hash oil, listening to scream, big facts
all that sl!ck talkin’ finna get a n*gga kidnapped
gelonade got a n*gga finna go and lift off
i’ma empty out the magazine when i’m p*ssed off
i’m on that wedding pie, it got me geeked
my b*tch hit it twice and then she went to sleep
i drop bud on the clock with the perfect technique
i’ma hit from the rear, i wan’ grab her obliques
i ain’t got time in the day for my females be mad at me
internet racks, i’ma run it up rapidly
she know i’m vicious, i’m f*ckin’ her savagely
she know i get racks, she know my mentality
grew up in the trap watching kobe yam on a n*gga
pull up in the porsche, yeah, the pan’ on a n*gga
yeah, pull up in the dodge, yeah, the ram on a n*gga
anybody try, yeah, i’ma blam on n*ggas
i’m the head bad guy, fifty different gridlines
turn a lacefront to a fire, fire hairline
i was over drippin’, i should start my own clothing line
got two jits, dawg, i’ll die for both of mine
i ain’t never satisfied ’til my money increase
f*cked up the profile, too many inquiries
they be low*key hatin’, i can hear ’em whispering
all these baguette chains, you can see ’em glimmering
had to make a u*turn, i just seen a roadblock
i ain’t playin’ no games, i ain’t sparin’ no opps
it’s a full moon now, so i’m burnin’ moon rock
livin’ off schemes, why is he on tip*top?

[chorus: money man]
burnin’ on lilikoi, ashes look corduroy
r.i.p. kobe bryant, r.i.p. 24
i can make a cool 50k in less than twenty*four hours
ridin’ with the pack through the tennessee mountains
vpn, socks, and at least three routers
i’ma thumb through it, i don’t need no counter
had to resuscitate a b*tch, my neck almost drowned her
i got oil, i got hemp, i got wax, i got flower

[verse 2: lil baby]
a1 zone 4, i’m feelin’ like rocko
big, big spender, take a jet to morocco
i got pretty women showin’ titties like i’m flacko
i came in a hard top, i’m still in the drop, though
i can make the charts drop whenever i wan’ drop somethin’
i can give my big bro a dime, he’ll pop somethin’
these n*ggas not real slime, they imposter
i know that my opps somewhere now playin’ possum
i come from a different type of cloth, we don’t gossip
p*ssy n*gga actin’ like it’s up, we’ll chop him
she diggin’ the rocks in my ear, i’m a rockstar
come from out the trenches, gettin’ paid like a popstar
i be sellin’ weed by the p like a rasta
who was in the car? only me and a chopper
i can make they heart stop if i decide to pop up
i can make a million every month and don’t drop nothin’
i found out a way to make a thousand*dollar profit, uh
pilot say it’s smellin’ like weed in the c*ckpit
i done made a quarter this week in huaraches
top model with me tryna feed me hibachi
i done got too much to lose, i’m cautious
i done ran it up, i got sixteen watches
which one i’ma drive? i got sixteen options
hoppin’ out thirty clip, bangin’ 4 pockets

[outro: money man]
burnin’ on lilikoi, ashes look corduroy
r.i.p. kobe bryant, r.i.p. 24


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