Pink Monty

Fuck you talkin' 'bout?

I don't want no, don't want no city girls

Yeah

Yeah

I don't want no city girl, I want a bitch from the 'burbs

I brought ten at Neiman Marcus, I'm 'bout to go ahead and splurge

How the fuck you get a gun? Back in school you was a nerd

I don't do no drive-byes, I'ma walk up to yo' curb

I took a four to the face, yeah I'm sippin' while I swerve

I don't hang with broke niggas, they be getting on my nerves

Hit yo' block by myself, they gone think it was the purge

You dick sucking niggas wave, boy that shit'll never work

Twenty-two on my arm, I might put it on my shirt

Twenty-two in the clip but it really hold thirty

I ain't never clocked in, gone be there at seven-thirty

You ain't made enough money to talk to me, you ain't worthy

If I tell 'em that I'm coming, they gon' close the store early (ha)

Good bricks in the sky and I ain't talkin' 'bout no birdies

This a light forty thousand, tell me who the fuck hurting?

I get so much damn money, I can't let no bitch hurt me

Out the window with the chopper, I'll flip yo' car over

I just blew ten thousand, boy, you tryna work over

You ain't smoking real exotic, I'm telling you they got over

Every time you see me, I swear my bitch a little colder

My nigga good with his wrist, he gon' get all the hoes

I'm good with my wrist too, I'ma rerock 'til its over

If you tryna make some money, I got like ten different potions

I got so many bad bitches, got like thirty different oceans

Bought so much damn Givenchy, they done sent me some mo' shit

If you take a picture with me, better put it on a poster

Ghetto nigga with some manners, put my cup on a coaster

We was out here young as hell taking guns off a holster

You a little ass boy, you cannot compete with me

I'm tryna make a hundred k in five days, not weeks

Smoove what the fuck you on? six-fifty for a tee

Smoove what the fuck you on? five k for a feature

That little shit you bragging 'bout, boy, I do that in my sleep

We'll let off fifty shots not aimed at yo' feet

Mix the wock'y with the red, man, I swear its so sweet

Spent five-hundred on a zip, what I'm smoking ain't cheap