Intro 808 Mafia Uh huh yeah The reason why Im out on my grind Im leavin everyone in mygun Uhoh uh ohyoure not the one Bitch youre notthe one youre not the one Never leave the house without my guns Never leave the house without my guns I aint lookin for trouble but Im not the one Not the one uh huh Chorus Do I got cash Uh huh I check a bag uh huh Yeah Designer my jeans uh huh they dont sag uh huh Niggas mad uh huh got my mag uh huh Try to hate on me I leave you in the past uh huh Uh huh uh huh uh huh uh huh uh huh She asked if Im runnin I told that bitch Uh huh Uh huh uh huh uh huh uh huh She asked if Im stuntin I told that bitch Uh huh Verse 1 Tell her that I run this shit like Usain Bolt Uh huh Im Peyton Manning to these fuck niggas ballin like the Colts Im sick of ballin matter of fact I may just go become a coach I go first class on they ass I aint ridin coach Never goin broke again I spent a thousand on a coat Just to say I did it did it cause its dope She gon do the dope then do the most Know she not no real one that bitch a hoax Thank God I aint have to touch the baking soda But I know niggas in the trap usin the Motorolas In that bitchs throat feel like a Ricola She do straight coke I sip CocaCola Chorus Do I got cash Uh huh I check a bag uh huh Yeah Designer my jeans uh huh they dont sag uh huh Niggas mad uh huh got my mag uh huh Try to hate on me I leave you in the past uh huh Uh huh uh huh uh huh uh huh uh huh She asked if Im runnin I told that bitch Uh huh Uh huh uh huh uh huh uh huh She asked if Im stuntin I told that bitch Uh huh Verse 2 I like if she love it love to flex in public Thinkin nothin of it may shoot up the function Somethin out of nothing 23 in my Glock damn Jumpman jumpman jumpman got the party jumpin Uh huh uh huh uh huh uh huh I hit Maury up cause all these niggas is my sons Uh huh uh huh uh huh uh huh I aint come here to fight niggas go and grab the gun Call me microwave because I heat up I bought my stripes and I earn them bitches Adidas I got a Spanish bitch I fuck on her amigas Run up I’ll let that 40 off that lil bitch got a fever yeah Chorus Do I got cash Uh huh I check a bag uh huh Yeah Designer my jeans uh huh they dont sag uh huh Niggas mad uh huh got my mag uh huh Try to hate on me I leave you in the past uh huh Uh huh uh huh uh huh uh huh uh huh She asked if Im runnin I told that bitch Uh huh Uh huh uh huh uh huh uh huh She asked if Im stuntin I told that bitch Uh huh

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