[Intro: Juicy J & Lil Juice]
Tay Keith, f*ck these niggas up
Yeah, ho
Yeah, ho (Yeah)
Yeah, ho
Uh, yeah
[Chorus: Juicy J]
Y'all really ain't getting no money, better get you some dough
Y'all really ain't getting no money 'cause y'all chasing these hoes
Y'all really ain't getting no money, yeah we already know
Y'all really ain't getting no money, stop that flexing, you broke
Y'all really ain't putting up numbers but who keepin' the score?
Y'all niggas way too funny, being broke ain't no joke
Made a hundred from a show and spent that all on some clothes
Y'all really ain't no killers, y'all really some hoes
[Post-Chorus: Juicy J]
Let me see, let me see, let me see, let me see your bankroll
Let me see, let me see, let me see, let me see your bankroll
Let me see, let me see, let me see, how much it blow
Let me see, let me see, let me see, you blow some more
[Verse 1: Juicy J]
You really ain't banging, really ain't slanging
Talking that shit but this life can get dangerous
I keep the stainless, leave your ass brainless
My life is painless, I'm rich and famous
You ain't no Blood and you ain't no Crip
Ain't got no drugs to make you no flip
You like the softest nigga in the clique
You like a pistol just without a clip
You ain't from the hood, you ain't get that out the mud
You ain't come up off them drugs, and that's understood
Man, I wish these niggas would, toss 'em in the firewood
You ain't with the mob
Nah, you ain't involved
You talking so cases get solved
You ain't making calls
Nah, you never gon' ball
'Cause you wanna see niggas fall
Bitch I'm OG, I'm spendin' bands from '03
And my outfit costs a G, this shit ain't cheap
I can't do nothing for free, I need like fifty a feat'
Somethin' like a chief
I make sure my niggas eat
Put niggas up on they feet
Nigga, don't reach
Even though I keep the peace
I'll hit your ass with this piece
[Chorus: Juicy J]
Y'all really ain't getting no money, better get you some dough
Y'all really ain't getting no money 'cause y'all chasing these hoes
Y'all really ain't getting no money, yeah we already know
Y'all really ain't getting no money, stop that flexing, you broke
Y'all really ain't putting up numbers but who keepin' the score?
Y'all niggas way too funny, being broke ain't no joke
Made a hundred from a show and spent that all on some clothes
Y'all really ain't no killers, y'all really some hoes
[Post-Chorus: Juicy J]
Let me see, let me see, let me see, let me see your bankroll
Let me see, let me see, let me see, let me see your bankroll
Let me see, let me see, let me see, how much it blow
Let me see, let me see, let me see, you blow some more
[Verse 2: Kevin Gates]
Yeah, I got one of my plugs in here
You know Juicy J done came in this bitch, you know
I got to show off for him, you know
Send the load
I got the breadwinner status, breadwinner automatic
I went to Arkansas and got at it, I took the route down to Miami
Timmy bust down, got traffic, we at the flea market with a Caddy
Ask your boy do I speak it in Spanish
Walk in the mall and I meet with a manager
Watch how you handle a nigga on camera
Big booty bitch need to know I got stamina, yeah
Never mind, money coming legit
Money time, bought a jet
Switchin' lines, steady bumpin' collect
MoneyGram, standin' up in they chest
You read books and you know how to play chess
Why don't crooks learn how to finesse?
Quality H, I'm one of the best
Still in, had to take a lil' rest
Stayed solid, hit the cell and reset
Fresh out of jail, ordered a jet
Not bad when you come from the 'jects
Get mad, you look kinda upset
Front pass, not regular yet
Two seater with the, huh, on deck
[Chorus: Juicy J]
Y'all really ain't getting no money, better get you some dough
Y'all really ain't getting no money 'cause y'all chasing these hoes
Y'all really ain't getting no money, yeah we already know
Y'all really ain't getting no money, stop that flexing, you broke
Y'all really ain't putting up numbers but who keepin' the score?
Y'all niggas way too funny, being broke ain't no joke
Made a hundred from a show and spent that all on some clothes
Y'all really ain't no killers, y'all really some hoes
[Verse 3: Lil Skies]
See I hop in the Jag, then I get to the bag
I be making her mad, I drip with the swag
I be spending this cash, do the digital dash
My gang on the map
We pull up to your trap
We don't care where you at
They want me to lack
I don't fear none of that (f*ck that)
'Cause my bro got the strap
Got M's in the safe
Bad bitches in the Wraith
All I know is first place
Niggas hating, okay
They could never get in my way
I'ma ball hard all day
I done came up
You can never take me down
Wonder why they girls wanna date me now?
Oh shit, more hits
Lil Skies on the paper route, bitch
[Outro: Juicy J]
Y'all really ain't getting no money, better get you some dough