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joey trap - money callin' lyrics

[intro]
akachi beats, that’s my brother right these, na’ sayin’?
lah
look, hey, this my life
countin’ these hundreds everyday always bite, what?
haha, trap, look, okay

[chorus 1]
six in the mornin’
hop out the bed, she’s sleepin’ while yawnin’
n-gg-, i’m on it
hop on my phone, the money keep callin’
money keep callin’, huh, the money keep callin’
hop on my phone, haha, look, aye, look

[verse 1]
cellphone, man, the money keep callin’
throw bands and the money keep fallin’
ball hard, like i play for the warriors
shooter with me, yeah, the n-gg- r-t-rded
brody with me got the stick, we don’t fight
sp-ceship, foreign whip is all white
smokin’ dope, i be seein’ the light
money callin’, phone ringin’ all night
i need it pr-nto
cookin’ the dough, yeah, i’m smokin’ gelato
i’m in toronto
just got a check, might buy a condo

[chorus 2]
i cannot sleep cause the money keep callin’
flood out the wrist, it gon’ drip, like a faucet
hop out the jet and i chill in the choppas
i cannot talk cause the money keep callin’
money keep callin’
i cannot talk, the money keep callin’
money keep callin’, huh, money keep callin’, look
six in the mornin’
hop out the bed, she’s sleepin’ while yawnin’
n-gg-, i’m on it, hop on my phone, the money keep callin’
money keep callin’, hop on my phone, the money keep callin’
this my life, countin’ these hundreds everyday always bite, what?
this my life, countin’ these hundreds everyday always- aye

[beat switch]

[verse 2]
gucci, saint laurent, i swear to god, my fit is flammable
my b-tch got a b-tch, she eat her out, i call is cannibal
i got bread, my pockets full
pistol big, i tuck it too
this not my fault, duck and move
spent three bands on gucci shoes
tell you a fact, uh, my wallet it packed
shoutout my b-tch, i can make her intact
it’s joey, baby, i’m [?] the trap
just 17, i was flippin’ the pack
it’s a machine, light it off at yo’ back
i know i’m 20, but, yeah, i’m a [?]
i be grippin’ the- grippin’ the tack
she fall in love, i just want the neck
it’s yrs [?] till the death
i f-ck your b-tch and we makin’ a mess
i f-ck your b-tch and i’m keepin’ her, uh, what?

[outro]
i’ma, keep her now, her for later, her for later, now or later, i can’t really tell which one to f-ckin’-

- joey trap lyrics

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