MIKASA!/MONEYCOUNTER ft. Marvo Lyrics

I don't know why these nigga's worried Bout me

I put my money in the money counter

My new bitch bad and she from Atlanta

Got a Glock on me boy you better duck

And his bitch want me, nigga that's tuff

I'm a get to the racks I'm a do what I want

I'm a get to the money can't pick up the Phone

Now she sayin' that she need me

Nowadays yeah it's hard to reach me

You can't walk in my shoes boy you Couldn't even crease em'

If that nigga run up we gon' turn him to Pieces

All my bitches are sluts and they treat me Like Jesus

(Whoa)

We gon' aim at his top we gon' see what He thinkin'

Yeah that nigga a bitch boy, I'm a real Demon

I was all on the block servin' to the fiends

Hit ya bitch one time then she for the Team

Gotta nine on me if a nigga start creeping

Put that bitch in designer and she Couldn't believe it

Nigga it's a Trackhawk not no regular Jeep

I feel like Rick Ross all I do is eat

Says you beating me nigga is you Geeked?

Stomp a nigga out in these new McQueen's

She tryna take off my Rick Owen jeans

I don't know why these nigga's worried Bout me

I put my money in the money counter

My new bitch bad and she from Atlanta

Got a Glock on me boy you better duck

And his bitch want me, nigga that's tuff

I'm a get to the racks I'm a do what I want

I'm a get to the money can't pick up the Phone

Ouu can't pick up the phone

Thumbin' through hunnids

While she give me dome

She gone off a yerk

She took off her thong

I got me some hunnids

I got me a clone

Got za in my wood

Can't move on my own

Choppa bullets eat his face

Doin' the dash from the jakes

Yeah, made a hunnid in a day

I might go fuck on yo bae

Yeah

I drop a perc in my lean

Know i be strapped with a Glock

And that bit came with a beam

I walked in with too many racks

She see them hoes buss out my jeans

I'm sipping on wok to the face

I just spilt some on my jeans

Ohhh cash out crazy

I don't know why these nigga's worried Bout me

I put my money in the money counter

My new bitch bad and she from Atlanta

Got a Glock on me boy you better duck

And his bitch want me, nigga that's tuff

I'm a get to the racks I'm a do what I want

I'm a get to the money can't pick up the Phone

Now she sayin' that she need me

Nowadays yeah it's hard to reach me

You can't walk in my shoes boy you Couldn't even crease em'

If that nigga run up we gon' turn him to Pieces

All my bitches are sluts and they treat me Like Jesus

Whoa Fye, Fye,

We gon' aim at his top we gon' see what He thinkin'

Yeah that nigga a bitch boy, I'm a real Demon

I was all on the block servin' to the fiends

Aha, Aha

Put that bitch in designer and she Couldn't believe it

Nigga it's a Track hawk not no regular Jeep

Aha, Aha

Whoa

We gon' aim at his top we gon' see what He thinkin'

Yeah that nigga a bitch boy, I'm a real Demon

I was all on the block servin' to the fiends

Hit ya bitch one time then she for the Team

Gotta nine on me if a nigga start creeping

Put that bitch in designer and she Couldn't believe it

Nigga it's a Track hawk not no regular Jeep

I feel like Rick Ross all I do is eat

Says you beating me nigga is you Geeked?