Lyrics:

Intro*This*
is the way we both wanted it wasn't, it [Willie?
The Kid] A
buckaneer with the buck knife I
rock the bucket like Para Smith amongst, life Disparaging
when, they hate to see you splurging Amongst
friends evil, lurking Determined
to, push something German The, Benz if I'm certain Or
something even bigger feel the jitters through the curtain And
b schlonget jitty when the cars look itty bitty The
high rise let em overlook the city Sippin
popular I, thought this what we work for But
still some, n s****got delusional when s titgot real I
mean it's one thing to want it A
whole nother thing to find pleasure in the fact your man ain't got enough to flaunt it I
want it for my brother like I want it for my own Every
man for himself show, him D but can't condone All
the fake s titundermine, the hatred I
guess I'm just too real uprooted, the basics When
both of ya'll broke it's cool And
if ya men get some money best believe it's even cooler But
let you get some these, n s****lose they medula I
thought this what we both wanted but, now I see how n s****on it Friends
& Money [Chorus
X2]: Fake
friends real money it can never mix It's
all good till you both start stacking chips Fake
friends real money better let it miss ya You
see the real when the money come into the picture (Cory
Gunz) Young
Money Gunz,
ruling this b h***with gunz ruling this s titLike
tongues moving with lips I
told them I'm on my sh-sh-sh-sh S
tithit the fan blow, the show and flip a fan Tol
em ballin ballin ballin ballin point hit the can South
bx I'm out ps Tell,
em what we bout gs 3
out 3 left feet out the chest It's
obvious you count me less he out he next These
dingy n s****call it rap and shout a mess And
talk s titon the internet Think
they all could get outernet Yes
it's Gunna brothers, keep a toola Young Mula B
h***still I'm in that reaper suit I'm gonna need a manula Who
are you fooling cooling doofus Or
do it toothless I'm stupid as uncle rufus His
stool is stupid now mucus with music If
you compute with just, shoot a mutant Excuse
me just mute a shootant back, in the day it was abc Now
I'm downin 1 2 3 Militia
men fisher men blist ya fishes my commision ya b h***get mishing then Hells
kitchen to that miss ya and mish ya in michigan Position
for rich and I'm finna twist my ignition in It's
dramatic dibiase he aint got no sense with him Dark
man only, willie the kid is the kin to him Young
Money Cash Money imprinted, in synnonims Got
n skanksick of them like Yo how the f k**they give him the him Catch
me on any corner store in america blendin in I
aint from it goin f k**it my plan is the benjamin n, anus[Chorus
X2]: Fake
friends real money it can never mix It's
all good till you both start stacking chips Fake
friends real money better let it miss ya You
see the real when the money come into the picture
LyricsFreak