Lil young I make money in a bag time *2 I make money every day ah ah ah makes money blick am united my country I smoke every day. Ain't talk to my youngest son in months, I asked him please forgive me I'm in the studio with killers, told me get out my feelings I be trying but I can't, yeah See, he gang, you ain't Tryna pop my pain away Wash that bloodstain away Long way from Section 8 And I can't trust my day one homie, I can't trust him, nah It's so crazy, I seened him snake me, but I brushed it off I'ma go so deep, I want my lyrics in your soul If we got a problem, I ain't gon' show it in front of no hoes Big bro got the streets on lock for real, he getting old You say you fixed your statements, but at the end, you still told Bitch, you know I'm smart as shit Tryna break my heart and shit She think she gon' get me back Fuckin' on these artistes Book and Von, you gotta fuck 'em too Just 'cause they a part of this You started this, them niggas started this I make love songs for the streets, love songs for these bitches Also love songs for my day ones, make love songs for the trenches Even the ones who doubted me, the ones say I'm actin' different Ones in and out my life who never came back, they still miss it, yeah Been on this road, I'm chasing a bag, ain't talk to God in a minute Ain't talk to my . It’s gonna big pussyfooting hey hey mama wish you where are you going taken drugs