Money Man
Quit Playin
[Hook]
Burnin' trap canna
Got spots in Atlanta
I'm ridin' down
I'm burnin' on Cane
My blicks ain't jam
Got six gun cannisters
We Indo fam I got Atlanta
Ridin' down track, got ten P's on me

[Verse 1]
Six different iPhones I got easy
Bait one, drain one, it's too easy
Futuristic spaceship, n***as is easy
Feds tryin' to intercept package
100k inside the dresser drawer
That shit perfect I swear she ain't got a flaw
Ain't no flossin', you know I spit that raw
Where I'm from, yeah you know we gon' break the law
Going up on lil fire I want that neck
Since he thinks that he tough, I'ma break his neck
Aaron Rodgers, I'm putting green on the jеt
On the Eastside, I be puttin' on, fuck thе set
Where I'm from, I'm the man, a fucking legend
Gotta keep that shit real with my fam and brothers
Pushin' Indo go spit that shit like a reverend
Sticking dick in this tall bitch, she 5'11
I'm the master my number is 27
Got the tropical punch for the 27
I got killas inside the A I be
N***a Fuck this music, I be movin' them units
I roll my sleeves up, I run through 'em
On the call on FaceTime, ridin' with the black 9
Backhand hit you from the backside
Bowlegged Charger yeah you cap
N***a try me, gon' get his ass capsized
Oh you get money, yeah n***a likewise
Me and shorty locked in we got soul ties

I be on the shroom boys I don't do the perctens
I was in the foreign car trappin' after days end
I was in the hood havin'
You can get a P for that n***a quit Playin'
You wasnt fuckin' with Alpha Bay quit Playin'

Still eating hot fries, you don't know real pain till you see a friend die
I was catching 100 bag plays with a bad eye


Rich already, a n***a ain't gotta spit rhymes

[Hook]
Burnin' trap canna
Got spots in Atlanta
I'm ridin' down
I'm burnin' on Cane
My blicks ain't jam
Got six gun cannisters
We Indo fam I got Atlanta
Ridin' down track, got ten P's on me