Money V - On Me

Uh, uh, it's V, n***a, uh, uh
When tragic shit happens Don't let your mind run
shit was supposed to happen, It's either you got it on you
or you caught lackin', He said he ran down on me
n***a, stop cappin', That n***a trippin'
must be sleep, probably did it in his dreams
You don't think I was a rat, n***a, all I want is cheese
But don't get this shit confused Bitch you know it's money V
Bitch, don't make me mask up and show you why I mr greens
N***a took a plate from me, now that n***a on a T
Bullets too fast, n***a, you can't run away
Hell yeah I crash out n***a broad day Gemini n***a but ain't shit two-faced
But don't get this shit confused we leave n****s on the news
Heard them youngins spin your block, had you runnin' out your shoes
That's not how that shit go I don't know I'm confused
If a n***a spin his block, this Glock fresh shit ain't used
If a n***a up this chop I better do what it do
N***a no OJ but a n***a keep some juice N***a, no OJ, I'll kill a white deuce
Make a n***a gargle blood like some mouthwash Make a n***a put on gloves like some white socks
Bullets diamonds turn a n***a into icebox, It's V uh, bitch, don't make me mask up
And show you why Mr. Greens, you ever seen a n***a wipe 50 G's at the T
You ain't even wipe a 5 at the TM on my G, You ain't even touch a 10 at the uni my G
You ain't even in my league how you think you can compete
N***a, no ketchup, but you n****s musterd, What you mean a yot block, man, you n****s buzz
Them youngins spin a n***a block n***a just because
Especially if you owe me money n***a, fuck if you blood
Glock n***a if you buck, hit you in your gut
You know I don't give a fuck, rest of my n***a luck
A.R. Pistol 762 hitchu leave a n***a stuck No 19X bigs got the 10 mili tucked
This shit a mini shotgun I call this shit a lil' pump
We ain't shootin' for no cars we out on feet, we gon' get it up
Pay a bitch five bs for the lo she gon' line you up
You know how this shit go my shoes ain't got no laces
So I ain't trippin' bout no hoe you know how this shit go
Barely catch me outside, it's occasionally when I go
N***a think he fuck with V let's be realistic, bro
Fuck the n***a BM, he went ballistic bout his hoe
N***a heard it was V n***a wanted a hella smoke
I make a n***a's stomach hurt like he drunk hella coke
I make a n***a's stomach hurt when he see I hit his hoe
Uh you want that shit back come get it bro I got it on me
Uh promise you gon' die you think bout creepin' up on me
Yeah, put you in the sky now you woke up in a Marley
Uh I'm in the C8 doing bout 140
I like my women in they 30s I don't fuck with shorties
And I like the lil' ghetto bitch that acts spoidy
Keep a gun to them your friends n****s be trippin' Brody
Keep a gun to them your mans them is not your homies
I'm on the i and the lex tryna stay low-key
Uh 5% on the whip, 19X on V
On probation but I got a deadly weapon with me
10 mili turn a rat n***a into Swiss cheese
I don't care about your man bae, I got it on me
You want that shit back come get it bro, I got it on V
I'm the type of n***a make 8-bands in my sleep
You the type of n***a try to sit back and be a leech
I don't care about your man, bae, I got it on me
You want that shit back come get it bro I got it on V
It's V uh

Written by:
vashawn alcindor

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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