One day you'll go away You better run Before I go away God gave me Sundays To fuck up the game Bitch niggas saying it's luck But I which I got some Spending all my money but that shit don't work

Don't worry 'bout it, don't worry 'bout it Don't worry 'bout how I get my money, bitch, just know I get my money Don't worry 'bout I spend my money, boy, I got a lot Don't worry 'bout that car I drive, don't worry 'bout that bike I ride Don't worry 'bout

Spending all this money, high as fuck, ain't coming back down Got me cashed out, g-got me cashed out Everybody thrash now before we cash out Let's fucking thrash now before we cash out Cashed out, g-got me cashed out This is my life, where the fuck do I

Ma mama weer all crazee now Ma ma mama weer all crazee now I want a lot now so come on Ma ma ma ma mama weer all crazee now I don't want to drink my whiskey like you do I don't need to spend my money but still do

Before you accuse me, take a look at yourself I called your mama 'bout three or four nights ago Come on back home baby, try my love one more time You say I've been spendin' my money on other women But you've been runnin' with somebody else Well your

Yah, yah, yah, yah, yah Coordinate the tan with the beans in my Rockstar skinnies Spend that money fast if I have to Make that money back if I had you Coordinate the tan with the beans in my Rockstar skinnies (Straight up!) I'mma need some more, need

Tip, tip, tip, tip I got some money to spend Stop it, stop it, stop it, stop it Time to stop it, stop it, stop it, stop it Man got the habit, money poking out the bag I might hop out on it now, for my city brought it back Bad bitches bust it down, always

Before you accuse me, take a look at yourself You say I've been spending my money on other women You've been taking money from someone else I called your mama 'bout three or four nights ago Come back home baby, try my love one more time Well your mother

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

With your long blond hair and your eyes of blue The only thing I ever got from you Was sorrow, sorrow Sorrow, sorrow You're acting funny, try to spend my money You out there playing your high class games Of sorrow, sorrow You never do what you know you