[Verse 1: Sir Michael Rocks]
Right off top with that splash
With a bottle of Cris for that glass
Got a couple of racks in that stash
That money be coming in so fast
I copped the drop and I brag
Two hundred and five on that dash
But that don't mean I won't be creepin'
I ain't answer the phone, she saw me tweetin'
Hit me with a text and said we beefin'
Send her one back and said you tweakin'
Ain't about cash I'm not repeatin'
I ain't playin' those games, I'm not competin'
Said what you talkin' 'bout? Baby we just havin' fun
Maybe this is how it's run, middle finger, add a one
I throw the peace up, these G's up, we hit a lick
I know the secrets, I know the niggas that I eat with
We practice all of that G shit
T cracked the bottle that weed lit
Let's celebrate, I'm looking for a reason to elevate
[Hook]
Let's hit a lick, let's hit it rich, my nigga, both kinds
And I'm working round the clock, I'm always on time
I'm a rider, so fuck your clique
I'm in a drug dealer whip but I ain't cut no bricks
Let's get rich
Let's hit a lick, let's hit a lick, let's hit a lick, let's hit a lick
Let's hit a lick, let's hit a lick, let's hit a...
That's my shit
Just hit a lick, just hit a lick, just hit a lick, just hit a lick
We here to lick, let's hit a lick, let's hit a...
That's my shit
[Verse 2: Tris J]
Lobster fettuccini, side of fried zucchini
Wash it down with Cris and top it all off with some greenery
Ain't no one on ones, man I swear they got a team me (yea)
Boy I got them packs flippin', moving like a slinky
Met your girl Vicky, she nasty, she freaky
Want a heavyweight, she tired of fucking with a peewee
Tris come through, have her screamin' Willie Beamen
I dick her down like dick was going out of season
Feelin hella bold so we ain't sneakin', e'ry weekend
I'm resting in that pussy, gettin' some while I'm sleepin'
I'm made of gold, get your metal up
Recap my highlights, I'm twice nice, strong like a glass of seven up
My condolences to all competitors fool you way behind
So tell me how you gonna get ahead of us
It's Tris man, stretch it like a wrist band
Sip the deuce from the styrofoam, become a kick stand
[Hook]
[Verse 3: Shorty K]
I love money, I hate haters, I keep bitches, I'm so player
Just fuck the hoes cause I don't date 'em, just beat it up like pacemakers
Man, my pockets so racist, shout out to them white men
I got a bad ho and she light skin with a brown friend that don't like men
And they fuckin' me, they suckin' me, they bust for me, they sluts to me
This bully boy, and they bust for me, for any nigga on that fuckery
We cash jays, do bank fraud, couple niggas with that bass hard
Cook that shit like Based God, then run that like A-Rod
Range Roves, Porsche trucks, summer come, we change up
To the S L then the C L, stack that up when we need bail
Whatcha know about that? Shit ain't just rap
Ridin' down 10 with the shits in the back
Rap 'em up then you ship em back
For the next day, have em in the trap
Money don't sleep so a nigga don't nap
Money talk for me so a nigga don't yap
Everybody good cause we all got packs
Hundred pounds in and it started with a sack
Cash it out and never seen the lease
Big stones in my Jesus piece
Feature, I need three at least
Toothpick Clique TPC
[Hook]
