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Dora

Sainte
Popularity · Low
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Lyrics

Ayy, I love the money and the money love me I love the money and the money love me 4L 4L 4L. Ayy, look I told bro you can't die for the huzz (No way) If you ain't gon' ride for your hood (Skrrt) Told bae, "Wagwan? What's good?" Delete her number if she knows you're a Stush (Stush) I'm on a two-man speeding ride, straight outta Leicester woods This ting got me vexing again, texting late night crunch Hole-in-one like Tiger Woods—if I score four more, I go up I'm on the M‐way heading north, gang signs, love song vibes No capture like they saw me fit it on me, white stickers stuck Bag getting bigger on me, did a scissor stunt just now I'm a saint with a sinner on me, with a sinner on me And you know what I mean. And you know what I mean I was outside with the brodie on low-key, stacking jeans They don't know me, but they act like fiends Told this ten face "see you later," I got paper—now she chasin' me Now she chasing me I don't need a mistress, baby, money stretching, doing fitness I don't wanna see a wishlist, baby, I'm already on a hit list I'm too turnt, I'm a different gravy, maybe we can lit this I ain't free so F, you pay me; I got PayPal—why you waiting? I'm the hardest stepper, while S got pepper I'm out late night on a flex, two dogs, Benz—splurging rent Making money singing; to the left, to the left—slowdown is a bend I love the money and the money love me; float like Ali breathes While my chain is swinging, it sounds too smiley—why you wildin'? Look at my teeth: diamond grinning Like why you keep screaming at me? They say I've been flirting, but I'm working—how can you believe them? I left you at 8 'cause stu's is my bed, where I make movies Tell me if you see a future for me, 'cause I upgrade—unusual G No bad vibe in my aura, money in my bag like Dora In a Range‐Roll, just doing explorer runs (Skrrt, skrrt) St. Patrick's ghost when I call ya; my story starts via Porter I don't really stylin', stepping like a baller Work OD, coach needs a call Started off broke, now it's money on the floor—OMG ayy ayy And you know what I mean again I was outside with brodie low-key, stacking jeans again They don't know me, but act like fiends Told that face "see you later"—I got paper, now she chasin' me Now she chase me I don't need a mistress; pay me, baby—Fitness mode Wishlist don't matter; I'm on a hit list Too turnt, different gravy; lit maybe, I don't know (Bae) Not free, so pay me—I got PayPal, why the hell wait? (And you know what I mean) I'm the hardest stepper while S got pepper Out late night flexing again, two dogs and Benz splurging Making money singing to the left, to the left—still grinding (And you know what I mean)