Shit Get Risky ft. Babyface Ray Lyrics

Sam Pain nigga woah woah

Shit been getting real and getting risky

When you young and getting money

Gotta keep your drac shit get sticky

18-wheeler driving through downtown you cant miss it

We getting to it niggas fucking up the bag like Miles Bridges

Scrape the bowl until you get up everything thats how Im living

Stack that money up to the ceiling

Used to baking soda every pound to make a killing

Bosses take all the loses you lil trappers gotta know the difference

Balling I do this often I look relaxed but I aint slipping

Got a homie chasing that perc itch hopping counters he gon risk it

If i pass the ball I pray that he dont miss it

Lil boy was having motion but now he finished

All that scamming aint get him no where but emotional and he livid

All that money that niggas was talking now I hear crickets

Tryna stay alive I stay on my pivot

Got that 40 by my britches praying another homie dont stick me

Niggas only see whats in front of them thats they stigma

Bitches only gon want that money Im a go getter

I blessed my hood bitch Glorilla

I be soul searching angel round demons and cold killers

My nigga pole working G on the unit gave him the whole 50

I dont play the block the police always tryn stop and frisk me

I gotta keep a Glock Im getting money this shit be getting risky

This number for the fam so dont call me talking work

I walk in the room and listen first fuck you talking for

I unlock the beamer and it sound just like a Nextel chirping

Took a L and cried about told that boy pull down his skirt

From the first to first watch the bag twerk Im counting money

Nigga played first just like karma on him Im coming for him

Nigga touch my brother turn to Wilt Chamberlain hunnit on em

In that kitchen like a frat we got that boy we stomping on it

In the summer still snowing say they watching still going

Thotties feeling on my pocket tryna get a feel for me

I cant even post my cars and cribs I got real money

I spent 10 thousand over 3-4 hours I still got pill money

Spent 2 thousand off in a pop my bitch bill money

I aint even gotta have no guap they gon kill for me

Label aint talking M&Ms that aint deal money

Out of town rolling on the hill Jack and Jill on em

Been balling since a youngin like Lamelo ask em they know

My blood been getting money since the gold chains and kangols

Wide body Trackhawk Durangos at Wokcanos

Who you know come up out the mud without a stain on em