Song Meaning

The lyrics paint a picture of relentless ambition and the pursuit of wealth in what appears to be a high-stakes environment. The opening lines immediately establish a sense of urgency and a focus on material gain, with phrases like "More carrots than a wrist watch" and "Make your place the buzzer, be the tick tock." This sets a tone of constant motion and a drive to secure resources before opportunities vanish. The narrator emphasizes a singular focus on money as the primary motivator, stating, "Money been the motivate / Stop until the shit popped." This suggests a life lived on the edge, where success is measured by tangible financial outcomes and the ability to acquire and protect assets, as hinted by "bananas and them shits locked." The central tension revolves around the transient nature of wealth and the narrator's determination to escape a precarious situation. The recurring hook, "The money come, the money go / I got my bread, now I'm out the door," highlights a cycle of earning and immediate departure, implying a need to constantly move and secure gains. This isn't just about accumulating wealth, but about using it as a means of escape from a potentially dangerous or limiting circumstance, a "one way trap" where "weighting out grams in the back" is a reality. The narrator's boast about driving fast and being an "asshole" underscores a defiant attitude born from overcoming past neglect and present challenges. A striking element of the craft is the juxtaposition of aggressive, street-oriented imagery with aspirational goals. The narrator details possessions like a "big Glock" and boasts about "big dough, high boss," but also expresses a desire for a "private island" and to be "the greatest." This contrast between the gritty present and the opulent future creates a compelling narrative arc. The repetition of "10, K" in the interlude, followed by "They bugging, they dead / I'm getting, to the money / Stack paper, count bread," reinforces the singular focus on financial accumulation as the ultimate validation and a means to silence doubters. Ultimately, these lyrics resonate because they capture a raw, unvarnished drive for success against perceived odds. The writing effectively uses vivid, often confrontational language to convey a powerful sense of self-determination and a clear vision for a better future. The constant emphasis on money, escape, and overcoming obstacles creates an energetic and determined persona that listeners can connect with, even if the specific circumstances are intense. The narrative arc from the streets to aspirations of ownership and greatness feels earned through the lyrical depiction of relentless hustle and a refusal to be held back.

Flyboy Tarantino - Rap

Broward County Fingalata

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Duration: 2:28

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[Intro: Flyboy Tarantino] Broward County Fingalata, you already know man Ya man, aye aye aye [Verse 1] Six top (sling!) More carrots than a wrist watch Make your place the buzzer, be the tick tock Shit tall, had my niggas get yo shit rock Stick tall, got bananas and them shits locked And they loaded (pop pop) I been real focus Money been the motivate Stop until the shit popped (pop pop) You ain't getting down nigga, rocks Fact, young fat nigga with the big Glock Gold in my mouth, throw a lemonade Me push and wiggle like mayonnaise I'm the one ahead like Chris Rock Got it down and packed when the strip hot You other rappers claim you got it I don't know but when you [?] grass it You make the kids bop [Hook] The money come, the money go I got my bread, now I'm out the door (I'm out the door) The money come, the money go I got my bread, now I'm out the door (oh no) The money come, the money go (oh no) I got my bread, now I'm out the door The money come, the money go (oh no) I got my bread, now I'm out the door (aye) [Verse 2] Tell me what you know about that No in, no out, its a one way trap Tell me what you know about that Weighting out grams in the back, counting bags (oh no) Tell me what you know about that Big dough, high boss, skirt off, drive fast Fuck boy, touch my pack, that's yo ass Went 120 on the dash, I'm an asshole (I'm an asshole) Getting kinda bent, getting fast though (going fast though) To be honest, fuck a bitch with the cash flow Back then they ain't even really want a nigga Now I'm hot, all the hoes coming back It's about time that I kill em When its crunch time, no sit back in em Chick's ass tryna go bananas like a gorilla Tell my momma that we made it I'mma be the greatest, fuck how they feeling I'mma go touch me a hunnid thousand I'm on my way to go to hit a milli I wanna own my own private island Feel like hovahin' them, I know I'mma make it You been tryna my soul, if you say I'm lucky Got a heart of gold, like what's all up in my dome Got the six to the top, you gunna see my money [Interlude] 10, K (oh no) They bugging, they dead I'm getting, to the money Stack paper, count bread 10, K (oh no) They bugging, they dead I'm getting, to the money Stack paper, count bread 10, K (oh no) They bugging, they dead I'm getting, to the money Stack paper, count bread [Hook] The money come, the money go I got my bread, now I'm out the door, (oh no) The money come, the money go (money go) I got my bread, now I'm out the door, (oh no) The money come, the money go (money go) I got my bread, now I'm out the door, (oh no) The money come, the money go (money go) I got my bread, now I'm out the door, (oh no)

Credits

Writers: Flyboy Tarantino

Broward County Fingalata

Broward County Fingalata

Lyrics

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Credits