I'm like, "hey, what's up, hello" Seen yo pretty ass soon as you came in the door I just wanna chill, got a sack for us to roll Married to the money, introduced her to my stove Showed her how to whip it, now she remix it for low She my trap queen, let her hit the bando We be counting up, watch how far them bands go We just set a goal, talking matching lambos At 56 a gram, 5 a hundred grams though Man, I swear I love her how she work that damn pole Hit the strip club, we be letting bands go Everybody hating, we just call them fans though In love with the money, I ain't never letting go
And I get high with my baby (my baby) I just left the mall I'm getting fly with my baby, yeah And I can ride with my baby (my baby) I be in the kitchen cooking pies with my baby, yeah
And I can ride with my baby I just left the mall, I'm getting fly with my baby, yeah And I can ride with my baby I be in the kitchen cooking pies
