[Verse 1: Sir Michael Rocks]
Right off top with that splash
With a bottle of Cris for that glass
Got a couple of racks in that stash
That money be coming in so fast
I copped the drop and I brag
Two hundred and five on that dash
But that don't mean I won't be creepin'
I ain't answer the phone, she saw me tweetin'
Hit me with a text and said we beefin'
Send her one back and said you tweakin'
Ain't about cash I'm not repeatin'
I ain't playin' those games, I'm not competin'
Said what you talkin' 'bout? Baby we just havin' fun
Maybe this is how it's run, middle finger, add a one
I throw the peace up, these G's up, we hit a lick
I know the secrets, I know the n*ggas that I eat with
We practice all of that G sh*t
T cracked the bottle that weed lit
Let's celebrate, I'm looking for a reason to elevate
[Hook]
Let's hit a lick, let's hit it rich, my n*gga, both kinds
And I'm working round the clock, I'm always on time
I'm a rider, so f*ck your clique
I'm in a drug dealer whip but I ain't cut no bricks
Let's get rich
Let's hit a lick, let's hit a lick, let's hit a lick, let's hit a lick
Let's hit a lick, let's hit a lick, let's hit a...
That's my sh*t
Just hit a lick, just hit a lick, just hit a lick, just hit a lick
We here to lick, let's hit a lick, let's hit a...
That's my sh*t
[Verse 2: Tris J]
Lobster fettuccini, side of fried zucchini
Wash it down with Cris and top it all off with some greenery
Ain't no one on ones, man I swear they got a team me (yea)
Boy I got them packs flippin', moving like a slinky
Met your girl Vicky, she nasty, she freaky
Want a heavyweight, she tired of f*cking with a peewee
Tris come through, have her screamin' Willie Beamen
I di*k her down like di*k was going out of season
Feelin hella bold so we ain't sneakin', e'ry weekend
I'm resting in that pus*y, gettin' some while I'm sleepin'
I'm made of gold, get your metal up
Recap my highlights, I'm twice nice, strong like a glass of seven up
My condolences to all competitors fool you way behind
So tell me how you gonna get ahead of us
It's Tris man, stretch it like a wrist band
Sip the deuce from the styrofoam, become a kick stand
[Hook]
[Verse 3: Shorty K]
I love money, I hate haters, I keep b*tches, I'm so player
Just f*ck the hoes cause I don't date 'em, just beat it up like pacemakers
Man, my pockets so racist, shout out to them white men
I got a bad ho and she light skin with a brown friend that don't like men
And they f*ckin' me, they suckin' me, they bust for me, they sl*ts to me
This bully boy, and they bust for me, for any n*gga on that f*ckery
We cash jays, do bank fraud, couple n*ggas with that bass hard
Cook that sh*t like Based God, then run that like A-Rod
Range Roves, Porsche trucks, summer come, we change up
To the S L then the C L, stack that up when we need bail
Whatcha know about that? sh*t ain't just rap
Ridin' down 10 with the sh*ts in the back
Rap 'em up then you ship em back
For the next day, have em in the trap
Money don't sleep so a n*gga don't nap
Money talk for me so a n*gga don't yap
Everybody good cause we all got packs
Hundred pounds in and it started with a sack
Cash it out and never seen the lease
Big stones in my Jesus piece
Feature, I need three at least
Toothpick Clique TPC
[Hook]