Z Money
Dope Boy Magic
[Chorus]
Gucci I got it, Louis I got it
Versace I got it, that’s dope boy magic
I’m dope boy swagging, twenty cal packing
Forty cal packing and my Trues still sagging
Gucci I got it, Louis I got it
Versace I got it, that’s dope boy magic
I’m dope boy swagging, twenty cal packing
Forty cal packing and my Trues still sagging

[Verse 1]
I’m a dope ass n***a with a dope ass swag
Need a dope ass bitch with a dope big ass
Tote a dope big gun, selling dope big bags
Got a lot of fucking money from these fucking dopeheads
You won’t make it out the trap, homie [?]
Gucci, Louis, know I got it, shit gettin' old, that’s not a [?]
Fucking bitches in the trap, born ho get it back
Pretty girl in the trap, she ain’t never going back
Ain’t a trap girl baby, why you steady tryna act?
You won’t make it in the trap, so don’t bring your ass back
Flipping, flipping, stacking, stack
Bringing chickens through the back
I got money on the floor, I got shooters at the door
Shook a couple haters off, then some killers knocked em off
Homie just cause you got Santa don’t mean you’re by my mama’s house
Broke n***a watch your mouth, knick him like it was a draw
Heard she got some label money, did you really get some money?
[Chorus]
Gucci I got it, Louis I got it
Versace I got it, that’s dope boy magic
I’m dope boy swagging, twenty cal packing
Forty cal packing and my Trues still sagging

[Outro]
Will she make it out the trap? lord knows
Most these bitches in the trap, they born hoes
Foreign clothes, foreign cars, condos
I’m a motherfucking star, they John Does
Will she make it out the trap? lord knows
Most these bitches in the trap, they born hoes
Foreign clothes, foreign cars, condos
I’m a motherfucking star, they John Does