Tha Money Child

Just a young nigga living I'm sliding foreigns through the trenches

I ain't walk in the dirt because my shoes was too expensive

Fear of god on my sweats I think she like the way I'm dressin

Off the mud in the booth poe wokhardt in every session

Bitches come and they go so I'm just ridin by my lonely

Ice age on my wrist I gotta go and get that Rollie

If I pull out the Bentley would y'all be staring like it's stolen

On my neck it's a blizzard looked in the air it started snowing

She gone fuck you regardless ain't even gotta wear designer

Hitting dips in Compton with Forgiatos in my tires

Crenshaw and forty third smoking exotic with the barber