[Hook Carmine] We get it popping in this shit All these pretty girls, a bunch of options in this bitch And uh, ay, Aint no stopping in this shit I been broke for so long bout to profit in this bitch And uh, ay, whats up, whats up Yea, whats up, whats up Ay, whats up, whats up Yea, whats up, whats up [Verse 1 Carmine] And it go like Andre 3 thou and the cheapest decent bottle of Andre we found Cause you gotta start somewhere Im at the bottom of this shit so I load this cd and take a sip And I got one problem, I aint rich So Im looking for answers, answer this How they fit them umbrellas in the doors of the Phantom bitch Aint no telling When they make it rain and Im out here drowning in bills like I hate my mailman So real But Im niptucking this shit when I pull the plastic out Her heels Cost about 450 and she paid em off with her fucking mouth Go, put your foot in your mouth Dont cook in your house, put cooks in your house Tryna live large, like, diabetics, what your arm like Them track marks, feel the high Them kush clouds in the sky I rather get a hundred thousand whip Stumble and trip to an island, that you cant pronounce or even sound out Without some foreign lips, foreign plates Yea, you like that body, dont I got some gorgeous taste Pour it up, put a little in For Bill Withers and these middle men Aint nothing but halfway crooks Aint a such thing as halfway booked So show me that money [Hook Carmine] We get it popping in this shit All these pretty girls, a bunch of options in this bitch And uh, ay, Aint no stopping in this shit I been broke for so long bout to profit in this bitch And uh, ay, whats up, whats up Yea, whats up, whats up Ay, whats up, whats up Yea, whats up, whats u [Verse 2 Carmine] I said, millions of dollars, six zeros like Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh I know, betting with god like, Hell if I dont One bitch in economy, one bitch back in coach And the only problem I can think of is not filling these quotes I lost my bag and I lost my mind, on the same fucking airline With that chain tucked in your fine but Ill wear my out like the tires On a four door whip with a choir in the back seat singing my shit It sound good, I sound rich And I should, Aint that a bitch Well marry that ho, bury those feelings Where that ceiling go? I better drive slow before I lose it all Make it back tenfold, tint on the windows Looking like night in this bitch, twice in this bitch Tryna double up like Sprite in this shit Cool enough without the ice in this shit We gon go, yea, she gon come Its about to blow, she gon need her lungs Before Im out the door, Ima need my funds Man, fuck a deal, change the sheets and run Ima make the most out of Late payments Spent that money on Mot and flight arrangements Two dots over the E, how much Umlaut, better bring your stock [Hook Carmine] We get it popping in this shit All these pretty girls, a bunch of options in this bitch And uh, ay, Aint no stopping in this shit I been broke for so long bout to profit in this bitch And uh, ay, whats up, whats up Yea, whats up, whats up Ay, whats up, whats up Yea, whats up, whats u
whats, carmine, ay, yea, bitch