Mugga Man

[Verse 1]
You might catch me at a couple road games
With a homegrown strain
A fine thang wrapped around my neck...
Or I might be lamping, handling in traffic
Blowing smoke out the window, freakin a black....
I’m, well scented in that authentic
My entrance get the females festive
Yes it’s, money all bet it
The crossover, drop step, all netted, forget it
It’s the sweatpants, headband, Air One
Petty, care none, fetti, spare none
Only, share amongst, Grown G’s, true indeed
You know that money only be where my crew go
My niggas still shipping off the flip phone
We flip those, then flip phones
Big folds, something slight
Big chrome, long pipes
Get blown roll it tight
Sticky green in my windpipes, what else....

[Hook]
Rolling up, rolling down your block
Get money shit, yeeaint know
Living fast and I’m riding slow
Bossing up, I just made a knot
On the plot, watching on some more
Til my dying day I’m stacking dough

[Verse 2]
Money machine count me, money machine count me
I'mma dog on the hunt, unleash and bring back the bounty
Just can't put nothing in front me I need something with a taste
And if you looking for hustlers darling this is the birthplace
All my bitches basic
Cotton tees, tights, made in the states
Foreign, never hesitate to domesticate
In the wheel dumping Yung Dro, Rubberband Banks
Best thang smoking, got that gas in the tank
Girl you ain’t gon’ tell me bout this shit right here
Folding up my ones and you all in my ear
Your bitch wearing my team colors, wanna be seen with us
Know somebody that know somebody you could get some cream with us

[HOOK]