Mo Money

[Chorus: Sir Michael Rocks]
Yea
I squeeze a lemon, I squeeze a kiwi
It’s lobster ziti, and fettucine
I cut them hoes off, Gonzales Speedy
Don’t need no fake friend to try to be me, so so
Mo money for me, myself, and I
Mo money for me, myself, and I
Mo money for me, myself, and I
Mo money for me, myself, and
Mo money for me, myself, and I
Mo money for me, myself, and I
Mo money for me, myself, and I
Mo money for me, myself, and

[Verse 1: Shorty K]
Look
Money on me
All of this cash, I can’t be low-key
Balling on niggas like Curry for three
When it come to the flex I get [?] OG
Who else could it be?
Ask around, they’ll tell you it’s me
That’s why these bitches be all on the dick
I’ll teach you the game, come get a degree
Flew out to Cali and bought me some trees
Send ‘em all back and I triple the cheese
That’s why the jeweler been making me freeze
I don’t see no nigga fucking with me
Think I was H how I’m after the G’s
You chasing these hoes, I’m chasing the green
Flame with the loud, chase it with lean
All those blue hundreds been crippin’ my jeans
I remember when this shit was a dream
Seen my first hundred and now I’m a fiend
Seen my first hundred and now I’m a fiend
Ran up the racks and now it’s a thing
Mo money for me
Mo money for me
Mo money for me

[Chorus: Sir Michael Rocks]
Yea
I squeeze a lemon, I squeeze a kiwi
It’s lobster ziti, and fettucine
I cut them hoes off, Gonzales speedy
Don’t need no fake friend to try to be me, so so
Mo money for me, myself, and I
Mo money for me, myself, and I
Mo money for me, myself, and I
Mo money for me, myself, and
Mo money for me, myself, and I
Mo money for me, myself, and I
Mo money for me, myself, and I
Mo money for me, myself, and

[Verse 2: Sir Michael Rocks]
Money for me
Need money for weed, that’s money for us
That’s money to touch, that’s money to clutch
I ship me some phones then meet you at brunch
The breakfast skillet with the wagyu
Take a pic wit yo bitch and I tag you
No Shade Room, we’ll drag you
I’m in LaQuan Smith looking handsome
Damn! How could you be mad?
Y’all was them niggas before we arrived
Remember the day that they shot up the Chevy
We was with Nik, I was turning eleven
My birthday, Baby Dale was driving, he got us up out of the jam
When we got to the crib, yo mama and them was so pissed, I can see from the glance
Shout out to my nigga Lance
That’s probably why we so advanced
If you getting money then I’m getting money, in Cannes, France getting tan
Through the airport with the scan
Want the paper, gotta take a chance
You can do it too if you’ll plan
I’m just glad I got a couple friends

[Chorus: Sir Michael Rocks]
Mo money for me
Mo money for me
Mo money for me
Mo money for me, myself, and I
Mo money for me, myself, and I
Mo money for me, myself, and I
Mo money for me, myself
I squeeze a lemon, I squeeze a kiwi
It’s lobster ziti, and fettucine
I cut them hoes off, Gonzales speedy
Don’t need no fake friend to try to be me, so so
Mo money for me, myself, and I
Mo money for me, myself, and I
Mo money for me, myself, and I
Mo money for me, myself, and
Mo money for me, myself, and I
Mo money for me, myself, and I
Mo money for me, myself, and I
Mo money for me, myself, and