Make a Lot lyrics

[Chorus]
I make a lot of money
I make a lot of money
I make a lot of money
I make a lot of money
I make a lot of money
I make a lot of money
I make a lot of money
I make a lot of money

[Bridge]
I make a whole lot of money
I blow a whole lot of paper
We fit each other right, like a Blazer
Yeah, yeah, yah

[Verse 1]
We argue, we fight, and we fuss
And we f*ck and we muggin' each other
I eat it, I lick it
I treat it, I don't wanna leave it defeated
Come on and f*ck on me
Run from me, buck on me, yeah
Put luck on me, pull up on me
Feel ups on me, suck gifts on me
f*ck is you hatin' for?
I am so different, come have a tour
I caught him disturbin' the peace
And I left him extinct, like a dinosaur
Drownin' in that mud like a muh'f*ckin' rhinoceros
I didn't think that she was a freak, but she kinda was
Yeah, she was a freaky little b*tch
I didn't get a chance to even eat that little b*tch
Do you mind if I keep that little b*tch
I'm gone, when I f*ck a b*tch, I'm straight outta the trenches
Do you mind if I need that little b*tch?
Do you mind if I feed her to the clique?
If you mind, I don't ever wanna be rich
And I'ma rip that money up with my clique like a pick, yeah
[Bridge]
I make a whole lot of money
I blow a whole lot of paper
We fit each other right like a Blazer
Yeah, yeah, yah

[Chorus]
I make a lot of money
I make a lot of money
I make a lot of money
I make a lot of money
I make a lot of money
I make a lot of money
I make a lot of money
I make a lot of money

[Verse 2]
Racks on racks, on racks on racks, on racks on racks, on racks on racks
Hit it from the back and I can't see nothin' like a cataract
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yah
Standin' back, lookin' like I'm bammin' it
Smokin' packs, lookin' at you runnin' that
I'ma die lookin' at your humble ass
Come in, baby, that's my mama, baby
My heart racin', and I'm so impatient
Call Metro and let leak Speed Racer
Cook that dope up, but no Easy Baker
I swear to God, I only f*cked I didn't cake her
I was too busy buyin' acres
That's my b*tch, n*gga, that's my b*tch
She can never come f*ck you if she's my b*tch
Gold VVS', I go Mitch
And I swear you gon' get hit if it's a hit
b*tch, I've been the boss of ever since
All my f*ckin' cups dirty like a ditch
I'm in beast mode, like Marshawn Lynch
And if it don't make dollars, then it don't make sense
But me? I swear...
[Chorus]
I make a lot of money
I make a lot of money
I make a lot of money
I make a lot of money
I make a lot of money
I make a lot of money
I make a lot of money
I make a lot of money

[Bridge]
I make a whole lot of money
I blow a whole lot of paper
We fit each other right like a Blazer
Yeah, yeah, yah