​​new money/prada u lyrics

[Intro]
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
(And I made some new money but I thought of you)
Yeah, yeah, yeah (We got comfortable)
Yeah, yeah, yeah (Impossible)
I put this sh*t on, yeah, I'm proud of you
(I'm in this b*tch with Clayco)

[Chorus]
Ain't no stopping me, impossible
All these n*ggas copy drip, and follow suit
Funny b*tches talkin' sh*t, it's inaudible
f*ck a redhead b*tch, b*tch, call her Kim Possible
n*gga, hell yeah, this Margiela sh*t so comfortable
Heard the "Yeah, yeah, yeah," now she getting comfortable
And we smoking palm trees, damn, this sh*t so tropical
Baby, come with me on this mission, like Poptropica
And yes, I'm Lonely, baby, dodgin' these obstacles
I wonder why my heart so cold and meltin' like popsicles
All these people cappin' sayin' they proud of you
I just put this sh*t on and tell myself, "I'm proud of you"
All these b*tches flocking, guess that's what Prada do
And when you're touchin' money, gotta keep Glocks on you
I'm touching money, like a wishing well, baby
And I made some new money, but I thought of you
[Verse]
Yeah, I saw some blue hundreds and I thought of you
And I made some new money, spent it all on you
I don't think I can keep running, need some new shoes (phew)
See, I just need some new money, not no bad news
When you walk in the house, all you smell is gas, n*gga
And we smoking strong, you know what we passing
I'm speaking right now, not the past tense
And I have it right now, not the past tense
I'm so high, I can't speak complete sentences
I'm having big bankrolls and I'll spend it
I'm never tripping 'cause I know that I'll make it back
Have I been gone for too long? Did I make it back? (Oh yeah)
And we smoking pounds of the gas
If you play with this sh*t, get them snakes on your ass
It get real in the field and you don't get it back
I'm a young rich n*gga still gettin' sad
Yeah, I bet I still get a bag
Gonna take this b*tch and put some Rick Owens on her ass
And I just gotta keep going, not so fast
And my n*ggas Deebo-in' red rags
But some n*ggas go deep in 'bout the racks
And I'm in this b*tch going full speed
Gotta keep control so I don't crash
I can't lose my soul for some f*ckin' cash
[Chorus]
Ain't no stopping me, impossible
All these n*ggas copy drip, and follow suit
Funny b*tches talkin' sh*t, it's inaudible
f*ck a redhead b*tch, b*tch, call her Kim Possible
n*gga, hell yeah, this Margiela sh*t so comfortable
Heard the "Yeah, yeah, yeah," now she getting comfortable
And we smoking palm trees, damn, this sh*t so tropical
Baby, come with me on this mission, like Poptropica
And yes, I'm Lonely, baby, dodgin' these obstacles
I wonder why my heart so cold and meltin' like popsicles
All these people cappin' sayin' they proud of you
I just put this sh*t on and tell myself, "I'm proud of you"
All these b*tches flocking, guess that's what Prada do
And when you're touchin' money, gotta keep Glocks on you
I'm touching money, like a wishing well, baby
And I made some new money, but I thought of you

[Outro]
When I seen them blue hundreds, yeah, I thought of you
n*gga, hell yeah
Yeah, yeah, yeah