CLNJonah - Old Money Lyrics

Grah grah
Ayy
Hmm
What he saying
Old money in the duffel bag where I used to lay at
Now I got racks in the bed where I stay at
He call me a pussy, you know I don't play that said
I ain't makin' shit, why would they say that
I still ain't find where he at, he better pray that
Yeah, that's my shortie, you know I'ma claim that
It's mine so, of course, I'ma take that
He kept playin', then they got his face clapped
Money in the shoebox, choppa on the floor
Got a drum with a 50 mag, incase we gotta go
You know it's some niggas that ride with the po
And I'm knowin' some niggas that ride with the pole
He gettin' too close, so I tell him step back
Get his shit wacked, knock his shit back, drop a diss track
Gettin' money on the low every day
Keep a k, so I know where to stay
I hang with them killers, I hang with them robbers
I hang with them niggas that do it for fun
I get on the chase it don't help if he run
I pass it to bro and we give and we go
She think she a 10, but we know she a hoe
I'm makin' plays in the field, but I ain't got cleats
Niggas dyin' every day of the week
Ayy, I'm poppin' a hoe, I run with my gun
Know, I'm runnin' and gunnin
Amir jeans, with 4k niggas know that I'm stunnin
Got his ass, now he look like a Funyun he must be stupid he messing with me he gotta stupid he runnin' from me hawking niggas down it's meant to be I'm your fate why he f*cking with me yeah yeah
I get you shakin', no hesitation
Cook you like bacon
I had you twisted up like dreadlocks
On a Jamaican
I don't play around in this shit
Cause you know it's forsaken
And I know there's hella niggas out here snakin', nigga
Old money in the duffel bag where I used to lay at
Now I got racks in the bed where I stay at
He call me a pussy, you know I don't play that said
I ain't makin' shit, why would they say that
I still ain't find where he at, he better pray that
Yeah, that's my shortie, you know I'ma claim that
It's mine so, of course, I'ma take that
He kept playin', then they got his face clapped
One, two, three, choppa, ready and go
I f*ck with this bitch and he don't even know
She told me to be quiet, keep that on the low
Like I'm a baker, just look at my dough
I'm stackin' it up till the bank overflow
With a bag on his head and I get his ass gone
I ain't got a mask, so hurry, come on
I'm f*ckin' this bitch, while I'm playin' this song
She givin good brain, she really got knowledge
Think she a scholar, she don't go to college
Pull up in a big body truck, you know that it's up
Stomp em out Carti B, get him stuck
Stupid nigga tryna test his luck
Shot at a nigga woulda hit, but he ducked
Like two big front teeth all we gettin' is bucks
Ayy, what
Ayy, gah, gah, gah
Boom, boom, boom
Ayy, ayy, what