Correction Lyrics Money Shot by Robb Bank$

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Lyrics

I ain't heard these headphones loud in so long
(Oogie Mane, he killed it)
(I think I might be happy)
Yeah, uh, uh, uh-huh
Yeah, yeah, yeah, uh-huh
Yeah, yeah, uh-huh
Yeah, yeah, yeah, (Wokkk wokkk wokkk)

Pull up back on ’em (Yeah)
Turn up, spaz on 'em (Yeah)
Hold up, bags on 'em (Yuh)
Uh-huh, flash on ’em (Yuh, yuh, yuh)
Racks on me, spot him, got him, headshot him (SSET, SSET, SSET)
Tell him go dig up his dead partner
Pouring up Tech out the glass bottle, no problem (Whooooo)

Get down, bah
New TEC now with the swiss cheese nozzle
Coming for the get back, full throttle
Hе tryna run away zigzag, still shot him
In the 250 Bent' coupe
Onе Addy, I don't know 'bout no murder, naptime
I take the whole Perc' 15, I'm flying
And I'm all 'bout my Curren$y like I’m Young Roddy (Phew)
Set it up, Femto, go get ’em
Hold up, b*t*h, I ain't ready (Woo)
Eighteen K for the presi’ (Woo)
These f**k n***as plush, they teddies (Woo)
To the dope, say Femto sent you (Yuh)
Eeny-miny-moe with these b*t*hes (Huh)
Kill your mama and your girl, it's just business (Tuh)
I work your b*t*h out with the fitness
I'm the future, past, present, I f**k up your Christmas
In 2012, chopped up the bricks like confetti
I meant it, I said it, if you ain't ’bout it, dead it
'Cause you ain't finna like where I take it, don't tempt me, uh
She bow in front the d**k like sensei, uh
And your mouth, know it taste like candy, uh
I dunk on your b*t*h like N'Kembe, uh
I'ma need you to show me what the head like, uh
I'm the head outcast, uh
And I raw dog every time, uh
Got clapped like ten times
Yeah, headshot, b*t*h, bedtime
Pimp my new b*t*h, made headlines
When in two to three years, b*t*h, fed time
Yeah, know I break hearts every time, yeah
Tesla, Bentley, Lambo', Benz me
she got good credit
Mani-Pedi, Femto petty
f**k your bestie, she wasn't even ready
Tell everybody bet on me
I [?]
Missionary while she kiss on me
I f**ked her then she couldn't sleep
They geeking off the energy
I met him at the Embassy
That 38, it's still on me if I see an enemy
Wait, wait, hold on, what the f**k you talking 'bout, son?
Who the f**k n***as that you brought with you, son?
Up top, I let my Bronx b*t*h f**k in Timbs and a durag, talk that talk
Word to [?] I ain't feeling that, son
Wet a n***a up, hope you brought your gun
Raised y'all n***as so I call you son
Block action, y'all talk too much

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