Dave Hill, B. Lewie, & FatRay100 - Jeezy Flow

I'm tryna get that Zuckerberg and that Bezos money
Niggas thirty and put up ten, that ain't no money
Run off, we knock your son off, you ain't no dummy
I got niggas takin' packs, but it ain't no honey
I was in love with the streets, then we got a divorce
I got tired of fightin' cases, in and out of the courts
I done seen niggas make a hundred right on the porch
Leave that bitch with more coke than you could possibly snort
Enough with the Jeezy flow
I treat the Glock like the shirt on a fat bitch, I leave it on
Ain't tryna fuck, leave me 'lone
My youngin' keep a iPhone charger on him, get your Kia stole
And bitch yo' people really bold
Bitch name Mercedes, but she built like a Kia Soul
Every window get tinted on
Shit, I can't be no nigga out in traffic that you get up on
I'm tryna get that Rockefeller and that Elon pape
Y'all niggas scared, but we beyond straight
Came a long way from them Nissans
OG was playin' with them pies, wasn't key lime
Love my hood to death, but I can't die over no street sign
I'd rather be in Coast Ri-, shitin', I need potpourri
Plug got a play, it got me anxious, I can't go to sleep
Youngin' slide down, a sweep yo' block up, they got OCD
I watch Cuzzo turn a Nokia to a Samsung
He had a Meech plug back when we was wearin' AND1s
The way baby blew me had to put her in the fan club
You would think my dick do comedy the way it stand up
Eh, I'm not a funny guy
You wanna hear a joke, bitch, I'm broke, that's my funny side
For them dark times, I told baby, cook em sunny-side
Now it's five stars, steak and shrimp, I told him, butterfly it
I'm tryna Bernie Madoff into some Arnault check
I'm good everywhere west of where Harpo's at
See em tryna run off, we get em walked right back
You'd think it's blowin' in the wind the way I lost my hat
Chop shop, hopscotch, get him chalked like that
I know the lingo and the language, they don't talk like that
Think she bout to be my bitch, you gotta bark right back
That title comin' with a lien like it's a car note check
Until our childs and Rothschilds can't see the difference, nigga
I can get the wholesale and then bring the shippin' with it
If I don't start, I'm off the bench when we can switch a nigga
Money talk, make sure all them songs still got the instrumentals
I can't retire right now, this a felony amount
I'm thinkin' 401Ks and Fidelity accounts
Soon as paper comin' in, I see the jealousy come out
Foot in the game, Tamia hustle, got me steppin' in and out, what's up

Written by:
Brandon Lewis, DaRae Adams, David Hill-Gray

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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