New Money $quad - NM$

Yeah
(901)
Mmm
Man, I just don’t care ‘bout critics, although most are crucial
I’m popping up like a damn toaster strudel (Ha)
So much potential, I make it look easy
Slow instrumentals, I make ‘em go brutal
Not my damn fault that I made yo’ bitch biased
She like my music, for yours, she be neutral
I hang around like a muhfuckin’ virus
My shit be sticking, there be no removal (None)
Cancel me out, that shit futile
Like so damn unusual, I shine like a jewel, mmm
I’ll teach yo’ bitch like a pupil
To search me on Google to gain her approval, mmm
We on the bed and the counter and dresser
I hit her with that double decker, mmm (Ha)
This dick ain’t free, I’ll give cheese for the cheddar
Now she on her knees like a beggar, mmm
I had to care for the lesser then dipped
‘Cause the chick just can’t handle the weather, mmm
I had her stranded and left her
‘Cause I gotta move on you squares like it’s checkers, mmm (Ha)
I’m not gon’ keep her, it’s simple
My psyche don’t like her, stay clean as a whistle, mmm
I don’ want see her a little
I’m tryna keep my mind like clear as a crystal, mmm
She say I’m so goofy, I’m crazy, I’m looney
I play too much, some’ like a fiddle (Damn)
We at the top and we cannot stop
We blowin’ up, some’ like a missile
You say that’s yo girl, you say that’s yo world
But she gon’ blow me like a whistle
Yo girl was just here, but now yo chick gone
You figure it out like a riddle (The fuck?)
She come from the south, I open her mouth
I blew in that hoe like a pistol (Bow, bow, bow, bow)
I stepped on the scene, we went to the back
And then she sucked me ‘til it tickle (Gang)
But I been runnin’ shit like I’m Hitler
Bust in her mouth and you kissed her
Man, fly like a feather
Dick made her write me a letter
Saying that she gon’ do better
I’m hot like a pepper
My niggas stumpers, y’all steppers
Some’ like Hugh Hefner, yo girl get around like some ketchup
I bring that energy, you niggas finicky
Class in session, where the attendance sheet?
Inappropriate how they feeling me
Don’t give a fuck if you feelin’ me, I got the wit
I know I’m killin’ this shit, I got the wit
I know I’m killin’ this shit
Gang
Didn’t know what to write to this (Nah)
My whole team, yeah, they righteousness (Righteous)
I’m ready to rumble, I gotta stay humble
I never could fail, I never will fumble
I got a plan, so I stay in the huddle
I got yo girl and she wetter than puddles (Splash)
Like 901 said, yeah, we lookin’ for trouble, we lookin’ for trouble, uh
I break her back like a Kit Kat (Kit Kat)
My choppa spray, yeah, it kick back (Kick back)
Where the green, where the bricks at? (Bricks)
If it ‘bout the money, we can chit chat
‘Cause I want the green, no CeeLo
Got automatics, I don’t need to reload (Brrr)
I got yo girl and she callin’ me hero
I don’t fuck with lames and I don’t fuck with zeros
You handle the ounces, I handle the kilos
These niggas, they soft like Sherman
Countin’ this cash, but they mad that I earned it
Giving her pack but she earn it
Slow your roll just like butter
Boy, we hotter than the summer
Chop you down like some lumber
Don’t act like we cool, remember
Yuh
It’s NM$
Bitch, we back, bitch
NM$
Yeah!

Written by:
Auston Smith, Joel Jones, Josh Booker, Zach Gilliland

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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