The money speakin' for itself, I call it fortune-tell
Fire top from a bitch that work at corporate sales
Chinchilla ushanka, we skiin' out in Courchevel
Breakin' news, they tried to kill him, but the boy prevails
Sanderlei Silveira ® - 2023-10-07T03:02-03:00 - US X2
The money speakin' for itself, I call it fortune-tell
Fire top from a bitch that work at corporate sales
Chinchilla ushanka, we skiin' out in Courchevel
Breakin' news, they tried to kill him, but the boy prevails
I leave for tour and my niggas fuckin' go to jail
Preachin' to the dogs 'bout wantin' more for themselves
It's weighin' heavy on my moral scale
Knowin' they gon' sell another citizen 'cane, they think they Orson Welles
Walk in Chanel, they like, "How the fuck you need more Chanel?"
I got these cats tuckin' tails on fourth-quarter sales
I'm used to seein' tears drop over enormous meals
The restaurant clears out, faint echoes of Lauryn Hill
I say, "We gotta talk about us," I feel like Jordan Peele
Could tell I'm gettin' under your skin like a orange peel
Cause your words don't match your actions like a foreign film
And now it's silence in the Lamb' like the horror film
Things get quiet after me statin' the obvious
Things get kinky after fifteen years of dominance
That October sky is lookin' ominous
The money is autonomous
Shout' to Oliver North, he out in Rome doin' Toronto shit
And Jeremiah the watchdog, you niggas know what time it is
I'm in and out of Houston Hobby so much, I'm a hobbyist
Hoes waitin' on Cench in the lobby, that boy a lobbyist
Savage got a green card straight out of the consulate
Where I go, you go, brother, we Yugoslavian
Formal is the dress code, dawg, so many checks owed
I feel Czechoslovakian, nigga, what the fuck?
[Interlude]
Nah, I'm movin' different right now, for real, like
I feel like if Mike switched out the glove for the pen, like
This shit just too enticing right now, you know?
Look
[Verse 2]
Diamonds do the silly dance, I raise up the wine glass
Metal detectors beepin' and security bypass
The numbers goin' up, someone pull up the line graph
The days are goin' by, it's like I'm livin' in time-lapse
Been talkin' to Adel like he majored in finance
Shania Twain, notepad, I'm makin' it line-dance
You tryna rob me, and it's gon' feel like you sittin' at your favorite restaurant 'cause, nigga, that's where you dyin' at
Mob ties, I swear we like a bitch with fine sisters and fine cousins, the family all bad
I'm preachin' to the dawgs about cleanin' they images
I swear I'm like a young T.D. Jakes to my menaces
Long-kiss goodnight, PDA for my nemesis
Three hunnid acres, PGA on the premises
That's what's really brackin' like this verse in parentheses
I'm givin' hits to niggas on some, don't even mention it
[Interlude]
Like, don't even worry about it, like
You can hit me back whenever, or
Or don't, you know?
It is what it is, I guess
Yeah, hm
Look
[Verse 3]
You young boys take some of that money and set it aside
Not havin' enough to pay your tax is a federal crime
You niggas obsessed with me, and it's not on no-hetero vibe
Handle beef so quiet, you think that I'm lettin' it slide
Next thing you know, we tip-toein' past enemy lines
Diss me so long ago, we making your memories fly
Conspiracy theories start floatin' 'round like the Kennedy guy
I'll prolly hold a grudge against you guys 'til I'm seventy-five
Ayy, niggas lyin' for a livin', I couldn't relate
We all gotta lay in the bed we make, but that couldn't be Drake
You forced a lot of fake love when real ones stood in your face
That's why you got deserted by your niggas like puddin' and cake
I got you on camera bowin' down, but the footage is safe
Thank God, another USB to put in the safe
Thank God, at the crib, dippin' my foot in the lake
I swear that y'all turned me into the villain, I couldn't escape
Not sayin' I'm the best at what I do
I'm just sayin' that it's me versus whoever wanna lose
Pick any one of the Who's Whos, I got .22s for new crews
R.I.P. to the DJ from Houston, we loose screws
Helicopters, cop lights, and news crews
Niggas steady cryin' to my daddy, well, boo-hoo
You prolly heard a lot about the boy, well, true, true, haha
[Outro]
(In God's hands) Yeah
(Be grateful)
(That He was there)
D'Geld schwätzt fir sech selwer, ech ruffen et fortgeet
Feier uewen aus engem Bitch deen am Firmenverkaf funktionnéiert
Chinchilla dem Mohanka, mir wackelen am Courchevel
Breakin Neiegkeeten, si hu probéiert hien ëmzebréngen, awer de Jong
Ech verloossen fir Tour an meng Niggas fuckin 'go Prisong
Priedin 'fir d'Hënn ze béien wëllen méi fir sech selwer
Et weegt et schwéier op menger moralescher Skala
Wësst 'si won "en anert Biergergane" zéien, si mengen datt se orson iwwersinn
Spadséiergank am Chanaler, si hunn gär: "Wéi geet et dir méi Chanel?"
Ech krut dës Kazen Tuckin 'Schwänz op véiert-Véierelverkaaf
Ech si benotzt fir d'Tréinen drop iwwer enormen Iessen ze gesinn
De Restaurant klëmmt aus, schwaache Echoën vum Lauryn Hill
Ech soen: "Mir mussen iwwer eis schwätzen," Ech fille mech wéi Jordan Pele
Konnt soen, ech ginn net ënner Ärer Haut wéi en orange Peel
Verursaacht Är Wierder passen net Är Handlungen wéi en auslännesche Film
An elo ass et roueg an der Lämmchen 'wéi den Horror Film
Saachen ginn roueg nodeems ech déi offensichtlech sinn
Saachen kréien kinky no fofzéng Joer vun der Dominanz
Dee Oktober Himmel ass ausléisen
D'Geld ass autonom
Shout 'zu Oliver Nord, hien eraus a Roum Doin' Toronto Schäiss
A jeremiah d'Auerdog, Dir niggas wësse wat Zäit et ass
Ech sinn an an aus Houston Hobby sou vill, ech sinn en Hobbyist
Hoes waart op Cench am Lobby, dee Jong e Lobbyist
Savage huet eng gréng Kaart direkt aus dem Consulat
Wou ech goen, gitt Dir, Brudder, mir Yugoslabian
Formell ass de Kleedungscode, dawg, sou vill Schecken huet et schëlleg
Ech fille CZCHOOVOVOVABAKIAN, NIGGA, wat de Fok?
[Interlude]
Nah, ech beweegen elo anescht wéi ech grad, gefällt wéi
Ech fille mech wéi wann de Mike d'Handschuhe fir de Pen opgehal huet, wéi
Dëse Schäiss just ze berechtegen elo, wësst Dir?
Kuck
[Vers 2]
Diamanten maachen den dommen Danz, ech erhéijen d'Wäiglas
Metal Detaktors peepin 'a Sécherheetsprämpfung
D'Zuelen ginn op, een zitt een d'Linn Grafik erop
D'Deeg ginn et lass. Et ass wéi wann ech an der Zäit-Lapse liewen
Mat Adel ze addéieren wéi hien an d'Finanzen
Shania Twain, Notizblock, ech sinn Makin 'et Linn-Danz
Dir tryna Rob mech, an et ass gon 'fillt Iech wéi Dir Iech an Ärem Liiblingswake "verursaacht, Ursaach, Nigga, dat ass dohinner
Mobien, ech schwieren mir wéi e Bitch mat feine Schwësteren a feine Koseng, d'Famill all schlecht
Ech preachin 'op d'Dawgs iwwer Botzen' si Biller
Ech schwieren ech sinn wéi e jonke T.d. Jakes zu menger Menë
Long-Kuss Goodnight, PDA fir meng Nemesis
Dräi Henid Hektar, Pga op de Raimlechkeeten
Dat ass wat wierklech brackin 'wéi dësen Vers an der parentheses
Ech sinn givin 'Treffer op den Niggas op e puer, nennen et net emol
[Interlude]
Wéi, maach der keng Suergen doriwwer
Dir kënnt mech zréck schloe wann Dir, oder
Oder net, wësst Dir?
Et ass wat et ass, mengen ech
Ma, HM
Kuck
[Vers 3]
Du jonk Jongen huelen e puer vun deem Suen a setzt se
Net ze schaarf et genuch fir Är Steier ze bezuelen ass e federale Verbriechen
Du niggas obsesséiert mat mir, an et ass net op kee Hetere Vibe
Handhabe Beef sou roueg, Dir mengt datt ech et smide sinn
Déi nächst Saach Dir wësst, mir tip-toein 'vergaange Feind Linnen
Disst mech sou laang, mir maachen Är Erënnerungen ze fléien
Verschwörung déi d'Theorien flooft floatin '' Ronn wéi de Kennedy Guy
Ech wäert e grujeleg halen géint Iech Kärelen bis ech siwwenzeg sinn
Ayy, Niggas lyin 'fir e Livin', konnt ech net leeën
Mir mussen all am Bett leeën, mir maachen, awer dat konnt net draken
Dir hutt vill gefälscht Léift gezwongen ze hunn wann ech an Ärem Gesiicht stoungen
Dofir hutt Dir mat Ärem Niggas gefällt wéi Puddin 'a Kuch
Ech krut dech op Kamera Bowin 'erof, awer de Fouss ass sécher
Merci Gott, en anert USB fir an der Safe ze setzen
Merci Gott, an der Krëpper, dauppin mäi Fouss am Séi
Ech schwieren datt Dir mech an de Béise gedréit, konnt ech net entkommen
Net soen, ech sinn dat Bescht wat ech maachen
Ech soen just 'datt et mir versus ass, wien wëll verléieren
Wielt ee vun deene vun deem deen ass, déi, ech hunn .22s fir nei Crews
RIP. un den DJ aus Houston, mir locker Schrauwen
Helikopter, Cop Luuchten, an Neiegkeeten Crews
Niggas stänneg kräischen op mengem Papp, gutt, Boo-Hoo
Dir hutt vill iwwer de Jong héiert, gutt, richteg, richteg, haha
[Outro]
(A Gott senger Hänn) jo
(Gitt dankbar)
(Datt hien do war)