Original lyrics

EN

I walk in this bitch looking just like a bag of money I be speaking, the girls be screaming they fiending for me But really it just be my money Uh, pull up, I'll be dressing, y'all be stressing Cause you know that I'm the bomb, Armageddon Watch me, girl See, I don't want your bitch, boy, she got mileage She choke more than a cinnamon challenge And ooh you never see me round it And all too much money to count it They like ooh you know your stuff, baby, that's what's up Got a girl in Virginia that look better than all y'all sluts They like ooh you know your stuff, baby, that's what's up Got a girl in Virginia that look better than all y'all sluts Down on your luck, down on your luck, down on your luck, down Down on your luck, down on your luck, down, oh I'm up this bitch, I got money to burn so she stacking her tits Till I look in her face, and I put it away, I ain't throwing this money around She think she's so bad, she don't know I had plenty bitches bad Some of them quarters but know that I keep a few dimes around Girl, keep popping, keep popping Don't stop till the money, ain't dropping Body bad but don't face trance, I'm fucked up and I got cash You're luck pants say you need that, I'm a real nigga, I feel that Down on your luck, down on your luck, down on your luck, down Down on your luck, down on your luck, down, oh