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world tour mafia – blow money lyrics

[intro: daemoney]
yeah (crackhouse)
mafia (spencer)
crackhouse (who the h+ll is carlo?)
yeah, aye, aye, aye

[verse 1: daemoney]
the benz coke colored, your whole family dope smuggling
n+ggas show money, that ain’t yo money, you don’t blow money
she gave me sloppy top, give her sumn long like 400
wide+body cat, smash the gas and watch the floor rumble
i’m good from the six to the [?]
gallery the joggers in atlanta, just a couple k
keep the doc away so i sip me like a cup a day
run through rap money, used to run through 50 cups a day
[verse 2: wtm solid]
dirty ass n+gga scared of b+tches, make ’em run away
it’ll be a lot of closed caskets, you think ’bout touching game
where was y’all? i was f+cked scr+ping change, tryna make a way
used to hoe me, now you on d+ck, b+tch get out my face
n+ggas better clear this b+tch out quick, i’m coming down the lane
them is not my opps, n+ggas see me, look the other way
yeah, i still be stuffing racks inside my shoe box, n+gga f+ck the bank
remember back when i punched a n+gga out his jewelry, all that sh+t was fake
i know i got a money fetish, i chase that sh+t like everyday
lil n+gga play around one time, we flip that b+tch from every way
they get you in that one room, you gon’ sing like mary j
no rizzy ride with fn’s, he shoot good like devin [?]

[verse 3: wtm milt]
d+mn n+ggas f+cking up they daddy money
she ain’t want me back then now she say she ready for me
if we can’t find that n+gga, do his little brother like he sonny
i got one inside in my pocket, teachers said i was a dummy
i put d+ck all in her tummy, pouring pints at the vault
man these n+ggas k!ll me, acting like they never took a loss
when they locked my brother up, i felt like that sh+t was my fault
i don’t shop at malls but if i do ain’t worried about the cost
how you make it all the way and fold up like [?]
man it’s time to hit the [?] i’m at the [?] gettin’ off
i pour lean for no reason, i ain’t gotta have no cough
man i had to shove my mans, he got lost up in the sauce
you know it’s slam+a+sl+t records, i’m f+cking on her cousin
u can’t find another rafa, b+tch, you a dime a dozen
i do you ass like [?], b+tch, play with my brothers
she give me head whenever i want, she prolly gotta concussion
was at the white way had my turn like pluto at the dungeon
i got needles on me like i’m a motherf+cking junkie
where the f+ck was you when we was on [?] thuggin’?
you ever had a pop that taste good but it’s disgusting?

- world tour mafia lyrics

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