Pocket Watching

[Intro]
Ay man you know
Don't count me out till I stop countin' money (Bitch)
Yeah

[Chorus]
Keep my money on me [?]
And I stay pourin' up lean, no I don't drink no bombay
And that bitch better be bad like Beyoncé
If she ain't bad like Beyoncé, she get no play
All that pocket watching niggas doin', we gon' laugh at y'all
All this ice around my neck, yeah it hit like Pacquiao
I'm in the front, I ain't ever been in the back of y'all
And my earrings look like some fuckin' basketballs, ah

[Verse 1]
Bitch I graduated from the streets, I got me my diploma
I put biscotti in my Backwood, fire it up, I love the aroma
I get with your bitch, you know I'm gon' bone her
I'm rockin' V-lone, you know I'm a loner
I ain't a hippy, you know I'm a stoner
Get hit with the stick, you gon' be in a coma, uh
I'm in that [?] on the back streets
We throwin' 1s in [?] and we fifty deep
Go to [?] and make it rain, now we can't see our feet
They like my style, they like my drip, they say I'm so unique
And I'm never cheeks
Serve you at a meet & greet
You trippin' 'bout your main ho, I fucked that ho like last week
Money stackin' up, I stack that shit up to my knees
I'm makin' plays, I'm puttin' that shit together, Drew Brees

[Chorus]
Keep my money on me [?]
And I stay pourin' up lean, no I don't drink no Bombay
And that bitch better be bad like Beyoncé
If she ain't bad like Beyoncé, she get no play
All that pocket watching niggas doin', we gon' laugh at y'all
All this ice around my neck, yeah it hit like Pacquiao
I'm in the front, I ain't ever been in the back of y'all
And my earrings look like some fuckin' basketballs, ah

[Verse 2]
Yeah, earrings hit like Pacquiao
I don't know 'em, who is this guy? Why he tryna dap me down?
I walk in the club with my strap, they don't pat me down
And all they fake Instagram models, yeah they at me now, yeah
(Fuckin' for some cheap liquor and some hookah
I know you, I'm a king like muthafuckin' Martin Luther
Please don't push me, I'll shoot you
And the money sign?) That's my marker [?]
I'm 'bout to slam a nigga bitch, Lex Luger
And everybody gettin' hit, whoever next to you
Cold heart, [?] coats for the winter
She talkin' shit but she gave me head on the Sprinter

[Chorus]
Keep my money on me [?]
And I stay pourin' up lean, no I don't drink no Bombay
And that bitch better be bad like Beyoncé
If she ain't bad like Beyoncé, she get no play
All that pocket watching niggas doin', we gon' laugh at y'all
All this ice around my neck, yeah it hit like Pacquiao
I'm in the front, I ain't ever been in the back of y'all
And my earrings look like some fuckin' basketballs, ah