Paroles de la chanson Mo Money par BiC Fizzle

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Paroles de la chanson Mo Money par BiC Fizzle


More money, more problems
Less Glocks, more choppers
I'm feelin' red, devilish
Did have feelings, then out the blue, my heart lost 'em
Turned to a man, I bossed up, you see me turnt up
Fifteen hundred for kicks I'ma wear once
Used to have one pair of shoes for four months
Now I ball out for them days I ain't have much


Sole survivor
Go for it like it ain't no tomorrow
I drive the whip like a stolen car
Fishscale hook 'em, Abdul-Jabbar
Straight from the block, I was born a star
How you trap out abandoned car?
'Fore I take me a loss, I'ma crash on y'all
Talkin' to shh on a collected call
We was just sixteen, bitch, knock somethin' off

More money, more problems
Less Glocks, more drums on sticks
Young nigga lit, I could fuck any bitch
Last year I was schemin' and plottin' on licks
I'm ridin' solo thuggin'
Whenever I'm out, I ain't worried 'bout shit
5.56, click, boom-boom-boom
Nigga get outta line, take away the whole clique


A sole survivor, go for it like it ain't no tomorrow
Reach for my neck, get his head took off
Racks in my pocket, I know they be watchin'
Won't stop 'til I'm up and BiC Fizzle a boss
Fuck what it cost, I'ma get what I want
I was dressin' for less, buyin' clothes at Ross
Hellcat engine, Hellcat the exhaust
Say I know how to grind, I ain't takin' no loss
Get in my feelings I just feel my thoughts
Promethazine just to help with my cough
Long road, pray I don't never get lost
Right hand on the cross, left wrist on frost
Flea-flicker, bitch, no twenty-two toss
Just threw bro a pack and he snagged like Moss
1017 on my neck and it cost
On Sixteenth and Clark Street where I used to walk

More money, more problems
Less Glocks, more choppers
I'm feelin' red, devilish
Did have feelings, then out the blue, my heart lost 'em
Turned to a man, I bossed up, you see me turnt up
Fifteen hundred for kicks I'ma wear once
Used to have one pair of shoes for four months
Now I ball out for them days I ain't have much
More money, more problems
Less Glocks, more drums on sticks
Young nigga lit, I could fuck any bitch
Last year I was schemin' and plottin' on licks
I'm ridin' solo thuggin'
Whenever I'm out, I ain't worried 'bout shit
5.56, click, boom-boom-boom
Nigga get outta line, take away the whole clique

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