To The Money

Lyrics

(Intro) Drumma Boy 51:50 BWA Hurricane Gates [VERSE 1: Hurricane Chris] Fully automatic in the trunk Took it outta trunk put it on the backseat Starin' at a flat-line One o' these niggas gonna catch me a case But it's gon' get beat Ridin' through the city with the top down Like what now? Ye ain't really want no beef That .223 got a whole lotta shots Runnin' off at the mouth, and yo body gon' leak Black ski mask, and nobody gon' see my face Lo key, bitch, you dealin' with a G Fuck hangin' out a window When I walk up on a nigga close range Bang bang and it's what it's gonna be Hit you with a chain gang, just anotha nigga dead Laid down face first in the middle of the street Now ye ain't really bout that, find out where yo house at Come through, let off with that heat, gone! [Chorus: Kevin Gates] Fall out in a party, said ain't no need for talkin' Bad model walkin', ass like a horsie All my cars are fuckin', promethazine pourin' Shawty out the body on a molly while I'm snoring All the gold bottles get water, all the hoe ballers be on us Might crack a smile, but it ain't shit funny If ye ain't talk about us, you ain't talk about nothin' Runnin', runnin' to the money Runnin', runnin' to the money Runnin', runnin' to the money Runnin', runnin' to the money [Verse 2: Kevin Gates] Running from a bullet, but it got yo name on it Want a nigga brain? I could drop change on it I'm built on loyalty and won't change on it Oughta be a lawyer fee, got 'em on retain Thanks to the D game, I was in the street game Waitin' for the rap game, crack game crept out Fuckin' in the trap house, wrecked out Bad bitch on the floor, body so fuckin' that she tapped out Bought a brick, broke it down so backs out Half of the rock in the shoe, stackhouse Now they tellin' me the game I should backout Same nigga let me in the gout with my back out I spit 'em down, rockin' a frown Bullet in my leg got me hoppin' around In a wheelchair as a wobble around Held up at the block, start lockin' it down Now I run the town! [Chorus: Kevin Gates] Fall out in a party, said ain't no need for talkin' Bad model walkin', ass like a horsie All my cars are fuckin', promethazine pourin' Shawty out the body on a molly while I'm snoring All the gold bottles get water, all the hoe ballers be on us Might crack a smile, but it ain't shit funny If ye ain't talk about us, you ain't talk about nothin' Runnin', runnin' to the money Runnin', runnin' to the money Runnin', runnin' to the money Runnin', runnin' to the money