Money bag, money bag, hunnid bands in Ayy, I can't stress the fucking fact How much I hate my fuckin' life (Woo!) Drag myself through the days, fade Burn my soul just like a light (Okay) I was on my fuckin' way, straight Dodgin' 12 and divin' (Okay)

And if I was a bettin' woman I'd lay my money down I'd bet he spends more time in them woods Than he spends in this house I got myself a problem I can't figure no way out It's like I'm married to a shotgun carryin', tobacco chewin', No good blue tick

Fuck these backpackers Runnin' this thang, money insane Busy getting brain like Krang What, what's my name in the woods got these niggas usin' Mapquest Alright it's Childish baby, Mr. Talk About His Dick Again Nerdy ass black kid, whatever man, I'm sick

Count my green (my green) Or get in between (those titties) Like my women (like what?) Thick and pretty (pretty and thick) Like my money (woo) Thick and pretty (thick and pretty) Money and bad bitches Hundreds and fifties (fifties) Bitches with titties