This one of them ones
Losin all the money, every coin 
And its back to the streets what the critics keep tellin me
What the critics keep tellin me 
Big dawg, come back home to us 
Big dawg, come back home to us
You aint payin no attention, thats whats wrong with us
Give back a couple million, in God we trust 
Buying all the speakers out when Im in the mall 
They call a pet store cause Im comin with all the dogs
Been tyin ties all week , I been in my vibe all week 
I aint felt like this in a minute, man, Im goin all in with it 
Motorcycle ridin with the choppers 
Sittin backstage with your daughter 
I aint ever worried bout nada 
Ill make her bounce it up and down, make it wobble 
Ooh, nigga better not play or his ho gettin revealed
 been helpin them drop-offs and you know my address very well 
I got your broad doin twelve plays 
I pass that broad like John Elway 
I tell these boys just like 12 say 
Pink slip the cars in the driveway 
Pink slip the cars in the driveway 
Red bottoms for her, no band-aid 
She livin with the stars, eatin grande 
Outfit from the runway in one day 
Losin all the money, every coin
And its back to the streets what the critics keep tellin me
What the critics keep tellin me, ayy 
Losin all the money, every coin
And its back to the streets what the critics keep tellin me
What the critics keep tellin me, ayy
August sixteenth was the due day for me
Eight-hundred-sixteen racks in the duffie
August sixteenth, twenty-twelve, brand new Rollie
Eight-sixteen whenever I play the lottery 
I ran it up and moved my momma out the trap house , hey
Now she got a white house, nigga, and she got a black house 
And it feels good every time I cash out for her 
And I love her smile, nigga, its so adorable 
Every one of my broads reppin flat T tummy 
Everybody bosses, you know we gettin money 
Diamonds on me loud, movin round like they tumblin 
She gon eat at cause the dessert there yummy 
I been gettin it since I remember, I aint ever been bummy 
January to December, a young nigga thumbin 
Orange guts, man, that bitch look like a pumpkin 
Drop the top in the winter like its sunny
Percocet, Molly, Xanny, Ecstacy, Roxy, Roxy, Roxy
Fuck her on Hercules 
Play with my shawty and Ima catch a body 
Three hundred Gs got me ridin luxury
I dont want no Jeep, bring me the Bugatti
Losin all the money, every coin
And its back to the streets what the critics keep tellin me
What the critics keep tellin me 
Mmm, I say, losin all the money, every coin
And its back to the streets what the critics keep tellin me
Is what the critics keep tellin me , ayy