Crunchy The Creamator :
Bust down the gas, hold up
Gotta play with some cash, roll up
Two niggas finna blast, pole up
Wrap it up no rash, hold up
I was busting that ass, mo’ guts
Drop Fo in a tab, mo’ cups
Big glock in a bag, roll up
Fifteen in a clip, hold up
Aye, fuck it up fuck it up fuck it up ooh
Walk to the store in some new Jimmy Choo’s
Art Morera :
Never lie in the booth, fuck with me I’m the truth
Only fronts I do’s a buck fifty a tooth
Smile looking like a mine outta Anchorage
Naknek had me walking out the bank rich
Run up on me, no need for conversation
Hands do the talking like I know sign language
Stack paper like (beep) guess we on different pages
So unless you a teller don’t say shit
Go dumb then relish in the greatness
You gon’ need an umbrella when my reign hit
Timeless, at the top of the rhymer list
Gold on my neck like a finalist, maneuver like the Heimlich
At the morgue getting cremated, I’m lit
Crunchy this fire damn son where’d you find this?
I’mma fuck it up fuck it up fuck it up ooh
Throwing up WXLVEZ at the moon
Walk into the room, shine on you more than high noon
Stay tuned, the stars will align soon
Crunchy The Creamator :
Bust down the gas, hold up
Gotta play with some cash, roll up
Two niggas finna blast, pole up
Wrap it up no rash, hold up
I was busting that ass, mo’ guts
Drop Fo in a tab, mo’ cups
Big glock in a bag, roll up
Fifteen in a clip, hold up
Aye, fuck it up fuck it up fuck it up ooh
Walk to the store in some new Jimmy Choo’s
Money Mogly :
Money Mo countin’ a hunned in twos
Cup of conch hot sauce on my shoes
Drippin’ like a fresh pack of wet wipes...
How he crippled and he still gotta left right
Ughhh...offf glass no meth pipe
Ughhh...baby check if dat check right....ughhh
Buncha wxlvez in a F type
Got em lookin fix ya face git ya neck right..ughhhh
You can tell dat i love life aaaoooooooo
Trigga finger gotta but bite booom
An my hustle sooo upright seeeeee
One time my woe plug life yeeeeeee
Wvtch Wxlvez dat my blood type geeeeee
She aint neher met a thug like meeeeeee
Snappin like its open mic poetry night
Smilin at ya bitch dey had to lower the lights
Sniper gang way she holdin dat pipe
Now she all mixed up like a bo of dat white
Bout to fuck it up fuck it up fuck it up woooooo
If u seee me upp it ... better buckle a shoe
Bout to cut up cut up cut up and goook
Big watch wxlvez one hunned five two
Crunchy The Cremator :
Bust down the gas, hold up
Gotta play with some cash, roll up
Two niggas finna blast, pole up
Wrap it up no rash, hold up
I was busting that ass, mo’ guts
Drop Fo in a tab, mo’ cups
Big glock in a bag, roll up
Fifteen in a clip, hold up
Aye, fuck it up fuck it up fuck it up ooh
Walk to the store in some new Jimmy Choo’s
Let me turn this down right quick, let me turn this down
(Aight woe, go ahead)
Aye uh, yo Crunchy the Creamator man, appreciate you for, you know what I’m sayin, letting me jump on this track man, ya kna’mean
We was up there in Naknek, ya kna’mean
Cutting fish open, talking about hip-hop
And what we gon’ do with all this money we gon’ make
I hope you well G, yeah
Shout out Brad, shout out uh, Malik
Everybody, man, everyone I met out there
All thanks to my cousin Chelsea
You know what I’m sayin’
I needed an adventure and she gave me a call
Look at how God work, look how God work! Yeah
credits
from Vanessa,
released December 12, 2023
Written by Art Morera, Money Mogly & Crunchy the Cremator
Produced by Grandmaster Funk
