L.E.$. - Opulence

rate me

I’m about this goldie, all the bad bitches know me

They pay me like they owe me, I’m looking at my Rollie

And it just show me it’s ‘bout that time for me

To give a little gaming, get back on my grind

This money stay on my mind ‘cause they stay on my line

They keep calling, I keep balling, all my bitches is down

Got ‘em waiting in line, them square bitches is crying

‘Cause I don’t even look their way, they can’t get no more time

I’m a pimp in my own, fucking rhyme, a pimp in my own, fucking rhyme

Yes, I’m on a hunt for the paper, I can’t see you broke haters

I’mma keep saying “see you later” with them tags, that’s paper

In my whip, new bitch on my side when I drive

Talking ‘bout how to get this money before the sunrise

I used to sell bricks, now I’m selling hoes

Same thing, different game, it’s like sell and go

My bitches got their comeback they make them tricks, come run back

And drop by some more stacks

No whip, I sit back and stack chips, feel like I’m the living Mac

Fine boss, goldie with a paper hat

Three O5 small black with the numbers to match

In the middle of everything, you ain’t fucking with that

I ain’t gotta drive fast, boy, I let them hoes see me

And most them fools hating is the ones that wanna be me

Lamborghini on my mind so I’m turning up that grind

Better go and get them Ray Bans, bitch, how ‘bout the shine?

No recline, getting head from a broad that used to diss me

But the unread text hoes talking ‘bout they miss me

Flatting on a couple million while them suckers still sleep

Guess that’s why we counting money and them fools count sheep

Do it like we wanna do it, only bosses in my clique

Got that isle, brothers playing while I’m flossing in my shit

I be coughing on that shit but I’m rolling up some more

And this potion that I pour will probably have me moving slow

But I’m quick to the mula, I’m teaching, let me school you

Try to pull some blow manure, get ruggers to your medulla

Don’t gotta be a shooter, that’s something that I’ve passed

Like a cone full of that grass with a mix with that hash

Senoritas holler “chico!” but I told you, ain’t no equal

Couple knocks up on your door, put that chopper to your peephole

Let you see what I’m about, now your life’s turned up

Let your bitch meet my bitch and I got ‘em turnt up

When them blunts burn out bet we still gonna remain

Pimping in this motherfucker, she a victim to the game, nigga

Get this song at:  amazon.com  sheetmusicplus.com

Share your thoughts

0 Comments found