Fancy Truck

Lyrics
[Intro: Toohda Band$] Granny asked me why I always got a coffee cup (Funk or Die) [Chorus: Toohda Band$] Backstabbed, I don't know who to trust I know my mama say I'm different from the streets, it really fucked me up I done took a lot of losses, but it bossed me up My granny asked me why I always got a coffee cup You ain't tryna make no money 'cause you talk too much They can make a thousand songs, they ain't poppin' us Stompin' on the gas, I see the lights, they ain't catchin' up Smokin' weed in the Cullinan, this a fancy truck [Verse 1: Toohda Band$] Twinkle show when they see my chains, they be dancin', huh? A lot of niggas want me dead, but I'm hard to touch They love to see a nigga broke, they hate I'm band up These niggas think they super trappers, sellin' grams, huh You always speakin' down on me, you a fan, huh? Fuck on model bitches, you ain't see me put the leg up My brother lookin' down, I told that nigga pick his head up We gon' ball forever, all them nights we ain't had nothin' I was fucked up, I ran it up, now the bag jumpin' Bust down my bitch, she the shit, she got an ass comin' Pop the door on any opp nigga, they some fast runners Niggas finally got some VLONE, that was last summer I heard you niggas caught a drought, that's a real bummer Weezy never hoop, but he can shoot, that's a nice jumper Crazy how this bitch givin' me money, I ain't even touch her I'm in a rush every hour like Chris Tucker I'm important now, every month, gotta change my number Keep a blick with me, I'll be damned if they put me under Unc' showed me how to mix it, whip it 'til it's butter I always knew that I would shine, one my favorite number [Chorus: Toohda Band$] Backstabbed, I don't know who to trust I know my mama say I'm different from the streets, it really fucked me up I done took a lot of losses, but it bossed me up My granny asked me why I always got a coffee cup You ain't tryna make no money 'cause you talk too much They can make a thousand songs, they ain't poppin' us Stompin' on the gas, I see the lights, they ain't catchin' up Smokin' weed in the Cullinan, this a fancy truck [Verse 2: Baby Money] I got rich off of one route, trappin' 'til the sun down How the fuck he makin' income and he don't come out? A hundred on the chop, you'd be dead before it run out We had y'all town hot, we did a half a mil' in one house Bitch, our drugs better She got the bag, I'll write the bitch a love letter Know how it go, Louis V make her love catchin' I keep the pole, disrespect me, let the doves bless him Kill a nigga, go and give your mom a hug after After I get it, I go broke, then I'm robbin' Probably playin' with them bitches, but you ain't playin' with no guala Went from totin' the pistol to me ridin' with choppers I ain't holdin' no issue, boy, if it's problems, we ridin'
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Credits
- Writers
- Toohda Band$
- Baby Money