[Verse 1]
I'm a trill b*tch
That's straight out the gate
And I'm cold as outter space
That is not up for debate
And I got a lot of drugs
And a new attitude
I should open up my closet
So you can see what it do
Got a white t-shirt, skinny jeans on
Black leather shoes straight, Louis V on 'em
Yeah I be on 'em
Like couples on a date
When I turn the lights on
All these b*tches gonna hate
Turn the lights on
[Hook]
Ahh yeah
They just want the money money money
Cars cars clothes clothes
Ahh yeah
Bet you never met em like me
Swear this b*tch is so trill yo
Ahh yeah
Call em 4 dolla bill hoes
Cause these b*tches not real no
Ahh yeah
They just want the money money money
Cars cars clothes clothes
[Verse 2]
b*tch, I'm a real OT
These hoes don't know me
But I know you saw my homies
From across the f*cking street
They were waiting in the car, all black
They were throwin' those things like that
And I know you heard that bangin' 808 up in the back
When it drop like that
[Verse 3]
When it drop like money
sh*t's not fair
The sh*t's not funny
When you say those things
Behind your screen
Then you see my team and you're soft like bunnies
Don't like don't like don't like those n*ggas
Don't fight don't fight don't fight no b*tch cause
The money do more damage than a motherf*ckin' fist does
[Hook]
[Verse 4]
I be like, "f*ck the world. f*ck the world"
These 4 dolla bill b*tches can't touch a girl
Cause you know I'm out here getting it
And I'm all about my business
On top of my sh*t
Don't need no handout from no n*gga
Money money money cars cars clothes clothes
And when those car doors close
And them shades go down
I'm still killing these hoes
[Hook]