shy glizzy - money set lyrics
[intro: shy glizzy]
blatt, slatt
it’s a f-ckin’ money set n-gg-
[chorus: shy glizzy]
blatt, n-gg- slatt, it’s a f-ckin’ money set
rollies, ap’s, and pateks, rest in peace, i’m fresh to death
yeah lil’ b-tch heaven sent, i just give her h-lla d-ck
it get cold where i’m from, lil’ baby send your measurements, hey
shout out to your ex ’cause y’all won’t never meet again
she done went gang on these lames, she don’t need no f-ckin’ friends
first time she put that p-ssy on me, put her in a benz (yeah)
you wanna talk to her, lil’ n-gg- gotta have an m (young jefe holmes)
[verse 1: shy glizzy]
jefe the name, f-ck other theories
you say you gang, you with the conspiracy (gang gang)
quality jewelry, your sh-t is blurry (bling bling)
i catch a charge, they k!llin’ the jury
my swag be so clean but i’m sippin’ the dirty
pull up to the scene and them n-gg-s get scary
i do it for mally, i do it for 30
street n-gg- for life but this sh-t ain’t gon’ bury me
40 bands in my jeans and you know they amiri
20 bands in when a n-gg- get near me
shawty keep asking me questions like siri
’cause she ain’t gettin’ the message, that’s clearly
i like to show out lil’ b-tches especially
you gotta show me that n-gg-s can’t catch you
girl my apologies that i can’t flex you
you know that i was a g when i met you
a lot of bands, lot of dogs, it’s a f-ckin’ major flex
i make the gang go shoot some opps and spray a f-ckin’ hater next
oh yeah i’m this b-tch with flare and it’s a f-ckin’ money set
boy if you play with that gg, ain’t no f-ckin’ comin’ back, ayy
[chorus: shy glizzy]
blatt, n-gg- slatt, it’s a f-ckin’ money set
rollies, ap’s, and pateks, rest in peace, i’m fresh to death
yeah lil’ b-tch heaven sent, i just give her h-lla d-ck
it get cold where i’m from, lil’ baby send your measurements, hey
shout out to your ex ’cause y’all won’t never meet again
she done went gang on these lames, she don’t need no f-ckin’ friends
first time she put that p-ssy on me, put her in a benz (yeah)
you wanna talk to her, lil’ n-gg- gotta have an m
[verse 2: young thug]
this mud on my ho, this mud on my dawgs
this b-tch want some score to put in her nose
she say that this d-ck taste like candy
put some laffy taffys, it get hard then it’s soft
under to the coat, that was just c-cked, c-cked
pop it on all of you opps
i don’t wanna pour up, but i got crop
fly as a broom, my diamonds no mop, yeah
hit my dawg with a brick like he deebo, oh yeah
my red gator out the swamp like mosquitos, oh yeah
got that pump in the front of that peephole, oh yeah
only time i ride the jetski’s to catch hoes, oh yeah, uh (all the time)
perpetratin’, ridin’ in that lambo on that tesla, ooh
slam a b-tch back, i done gone sumo, i’m a wrestler, ooh
take that perc’, 20 minutes later i load beretta, ooh
eiffel tower on my chest, that cost me cheddar, ooh
[chorus: shy glizzy]
blatt, n-gg- slatt, it’s a f-ckin’ money set
rollies, ap’s, and pateks, rest in peace, i’m fresh to death
yeah lil’ b-tch heaven sent, i just give her h-lla d-ck
it get cold where i’m from, lil’ baby send your measurements, hey
shout out to your ex ’cause y’all won’t never meet again
she done went gang on these lames, she don’t need no f-ckin’ friends
first time she put that p-ssy on me, put her in a benz (yeah)
you wanna talk to her, lil’ n-gg- gotta have an m
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