get your money up

just copped a new rarri, we made it out the trenches we goin far. Box you up ima need a spar. Ay got that ice on my wrist, Ima hit you with my fist you can se me I’m in the mist. I’ve never gave up I’ve always persist-ed. never walk around with out the blick, you know when I shoot I do not miss. This ain’t no diss I don’t do that shit. At got the racks. Got the stacks. You are fat, eat a Mac, sike, eat a salad, my bars are valid, Stephen hawking was challenged. Click than screen, shoot a three, I am green, John Cena cannot be seen. She said she was fourteen. Perform on stage, I thought she was the right age, I’m engaged, in the zone, pick up the phone, make that money, like Al Capone. You know I got the bands from the mud all my oops are studs yah I be stacking up money like jenga you know I be dropping da bangas. Gotta keep that gang around, grabbed the rebound, we dogs we gotta get impound-ed. Top G is what I am. Hit ‘em, the Glock go bam, damn did you catch that on cam? Yes I did, I’m on the grid, I’m amid, Christianio, wait he isn’t on Real Madrid. He got that bag, got a 60 end mag. Run from the cops, or the opps, slide to the shops, got him on lock-down. You can catch me around town. Hit her, I’m Chris brown. That shit was wrong, I’m an Asian, Ching Ching Chong, got that bing bing bong, hop on the beat. we don’t take Al’s this ain’t no defeat, it ain’t hard to compete, I got the sweets, damn I feel good now I feel complete, can you feel the heat? You know My bars are elite, hit the skeet skeet, got the bag I need a receipt, this song is set in stone, no, no concrete, you can catch me in the streets