Lords Saints In Da Cut

I be creepin out the cut
Finna put you on a pack at a pizza hut
All i got is money on my mind
If i meet a dumb bitch, i ain't givin her no dime
Finna write another rhyme
Always flippin money all the time
I be rollin up gelato lemon lime
Ridin in a foreign, shootin demons in the head
I be scorin, and they say "what color is yo Choppa?" bitch my Choppa orange
I got more guns, but i got it in the storage
I got rid of all the demons in the trap and there ain’t nothing but the angels
Me and all my niggas finna get sum big payrolls (yuh)
I just seen my ex bitch and i told her hey hoe
Now im at the top, yea i left you in the stray hoе
Bitch we big trappin, and it's all work, no play hoe
Ridin in a phantom, tryna get sum gold grills causе i'm tryna look so handsome (yuh)
Im finna put yo family on a ransom (yuh)
In the hood, I’m chasin all these blues
Outside i'm murkin fools
In my whip, i got hella heavy tools (yuh, yuh, yuh, yuh)