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t.f – mmm lyrics

[intro]
uh, look
daleon
okay
okay

[chorus: t.f]
shining like a b+tch
grinding like i’m broke
if it’s money on the wood
then it’s money on the floor
uh, money making mitch
a hundred thousand on him
i said i do this sh+t for mitch
i’m sliding with the loc’s
let’s get it

[verse 1: t.f]
high power, i’m the politician, this a campaign
it’s a landslide for the competition, wave the white flag
this beat sounding like a n+gga zipping up a body bag
i just bumped ashanti, yeah i’m in my irv gotti bag
n+ggas got him mad
sliding around in a hockey mask leaving body bags
i do bankless, yeah i’m usually counting sloppy cash
foreign whip like a penthouse
sliding around getting sloppy head
the first time i seen a wrist whip
he turned that b+tch into a [?]
n+gga stop playing, k!lla!
[verse 2: bale]
honor the gift, i’m talking outside of my fit
heard that boy went bad but i know valuable crips
i’m still picking up dollars ’cause i needed a lift
and everybody got a tipper ’til that nina go cl!ck
i’m the voice of the section, this a pivotal shift
i took 28 sh+lls, they say i’m living a myth
admire the fit, my prize is the profit, get rich
you said you lied, please stop it
ain’t policing no b+tch, forreal

[verse 3: trizz]
yeah, i’d die ‘fore i’m getting no money
still living off of old money
dumb n+ggas like to throw money
work a 9 to 5? you get slow money
she smell the dope when she hug on me
ride around and then f+ck on me
if he hating on me then f+ck homie
i ain’t ever tried to give a f+ck, homie
worth a mill, still ride around with $2,000 worth of drugs on me
i pray my n+ggas never fold on me
all my n+ggas getting old on me
money making mitch
f+ck and take your b+tch
i love and hate this b+tch
and i’ll never pay this b+tch, n+gga
[verse 4: 2 eleven]
caught a pack from the migos and then i went legal
the price of a kilo ain’t worth getting hit with a rico
running a play like i’m d+lo
i’m keeping it g, though
n+gga, that’s a free throw
riding on rims as big as my ego
you pay for the p+ssy, i blam for the free, though
i’m keeping it p, though
i don’t have a shoulder to lean on
type of sh+t i just be on
money making deuce
my hustle bulletproof
a half of million dollars cash
appraised 250 in jewelry
yeah, pay me in full, that’s supply and demand
distribute, collect and i don it again
drop a album tomorrow, still f+ckin’ on fans
walk out of the bank going live on the ‘gram

- t f lyrics

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