Phil Ade - POP Music lyrics

rate me

I got a sack full of green, a cup full of brown

A bad bitch with me so you know it’s going down

I told her once before, yeah, I fuck with you and all

But you know I’m out the door as soon as the money call

Money on my mind, shit think I’m a rookie

But I, been grinding, putting paper over pussy

But I, been grinding, putting paper over pussy

I, been grinding, putting paper over pussy

This ain’t about competition, I’m just doing what I gotta do

A lot of dudes want my position and take a shot or 2

They aim off, quit being lame and get you a dollar or 2

Cut a dame off, what she playing nigga for Donahue

… funny, don’t know what bitches be trying to do

Finna find a dude there’s only one I, monocle

Truth is half of these rappers ain’t even kinda cool

I see the jealousy in them I’m living what they trying to do

Designer shoes with the match fitted, eyes low, glass tinted

… lighting up when I pass in it

Cold nigga take after killas don’t want nothing cause I have to get it

Real nigga fuck a rapper image in my shoes you won’t last a minute

I’m Malcolm X and I … by any means

Steady green got them ready for the team

So it seems and just forget the greed ma, we never had money

So the most you’ll get from me is cab money

I got a sack full of green, a cup full of brown

A bad bitch with me so you know it’s going down

I told her once before, yeah, I fuck with you and all

But you know I’m out the door as soon as the money call

Money on my mind, shit think I’m a rookie

But I, been grinding, putting paper over pussy

But I, been grinding, putting paper over pussy

I, been grinding, putting paper over pussy nigga

So many racks I’m in the bank thought it was check fraud

Luckily it was some stacks that I had left off

The feeling left out, now I’m my own boss

You don’t control your own world, you a wrong cause

I love my chick she love me back I’m just like Santa Clause

When she running, hopping on my lap telling me what she want

If I don’t do nothing man I gotta stunt

If you talking moving onions we can chop it up

What’s the point of doing something when it’s not enough

Like why you mess with all these hoes if you ain’t got they trust

Same niggas acting like your homeys, man they prolly suck

If he had the chance, he’d probably throw you under the bus

I love spitting game, we the same, man you one of us

I didn’t did my thang, got a name, but it ain’t enough

Riding in the game, hitting lanes, it (aint aint no stuff?)

Contemplating things, in my brain, gotta make it up

I got a sack full of green, a cup full of brown

A bad bitch with me so you know it’s going down

I told you once before, yeah, I fuck with you and all

But you know I’m at the door as soon as the money call

Money on my mind, shit think I’m a rookie

But I, been grinding, putting paper over pussy

But I, been grinding, putting paper over pussy

I, been grinding, putting paper over pussy.

Thanks to justin tyme for correcting these lyrics