Overload

[Chorus: Money Man]
Talkin' numbers on my phone
Realness in my chromosomes
Pickin' up another load
Buying GALA, staking CRO
Can't front him 'cause his trap too slow
Weighin' bags up, watch him blow
Crazy how a nigga turn on you if you tell him no
You can't get caught lackin' in these streets, you gotta stay on go
Man, these niggas fruity, boy, don't make me split your cantaloupe
Tell me, how can niggas enjoy livin' when they out here dead broke?

[Verse 1: Money Man]
Tesla, Dodge, switchin' whips
Crypto, trap, I double dip
Only stock magazines, we ain't doin' aftermarket clips
Shorty got a crazy body, I love her face, I love her hips
Should I take the plug off? Right now, I'm on the fencе
We gon' crush our competition, we thе wrong ones to go against
I know Keisha gon' be right there if I sit down and I do a stint
I can't say the same for none of these hoes 'cause these hoes temporary
I'm pushin' this Maybach right now even though it's January
I know lil' bro'll never fold
Shooter ain't gon' never fold
Just 'cause it glitter don't mean it's gold
Make sure you pay me what I'm owed
My trap jumpin' like a toad
Trackhawk fuckin' up the road
The price gon' dump on this coin tomorrow, 'cause right now, this shit oversold
Too many strains inside the 'partment right now, this is our overload
I'm just tryna take the globe
Right now, bitch, I'm in that mode
Blowin' up, I might explode
HODL, gotta hold
Buy the dip, don't never FOMO
Need them racks, I need 'em pronto

[Chorus: Money Man & Benny the Butcher]
Talkin' numbers on my phone
Realness in my chromosomes
Pickin' up another load
Buying GALA, staking CRO
Can't front him 'cause his trap too slow
Weighin' bags up, watch him blow
Crazy how a nigga turn on you if you tell him no
You can't get caught lackin' in these streets, you gotta stay on go
Man, these niggas fruity, boy, don't make me split your cantaloupe (Yeah)
Tell me, how can niggas enjoy livin' when they out here dead broke? (Yeah, uh)

[Verse 2: Benny the Butcher]
Real niggas inspire me, just pages out my diary
I waited for it, finally, it's my turn, the irony
I used to be fed up with this rap shit entirely (I was done)
A few million later, I'm still a menace to society
The streets need trappers and these beats need classics
And if hate like promotion, I guess my street team rappers (Nigga)
I'm good, you make a call, I make a call, then look out 'cause them bricks comin'
Just be waitin' outside in the front like your lift comin' (Huh?)
You made a few chips, but still ain't teachin' your clique nothin' (Nothin')
You can't fool my bitch, she know the Maybach the 600 (Rrr)
Rollies for the team, nigga, only was a dream, nigga
Money out the streets ain't the same as a clean million
BET Awards show, I was used to court clothes
My crib got a courtyard, I'm courtside, just formal
My bitch not that regular, my watch not that normal
Jewels, I got a half on, mask on like Zorro
Every chance, I'ma ball
When my manager call
You know I'm—

[Chorus: Money Man]
Talkin' numbers on my phone
Realness in my chromosomes
Pickin' up another load
Buying GALA, staking CRO
Can't front him 'cause his trap too slow
Weighin' bags up, watch him blow
Crazy how a nigga turn on you if you tell him no
You can't get caught lackin' in these streets, you gotta stay on go
Man, these niggas fruity, boy, don't make me split your cantaloupe
Tell me, how can niggas enjoy livin' when they out here dead broke?