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Letra : Pink 10s

Coach me Joey
Yeah, yeah, yeah, what up Babyface?
Yeah
Yeah, fifty-five hundred
(I feel amazing)
Big general

Ayy, pink 10s, bring a friend, Burberry peacoat, wheat Timbs (Look)
Thinking back to '08, street spins
I done got grown now, f**k rims (F**k 'em)
Condo big enough to put a home in (Boy)
Girl that pu**y good enough to make the song, yeah (Ooh)
Perky got us f**kin' like we on the slow jam (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)
'Member I was f**ked up so I hit the road then

N***a go and get it, you know I don't hold hands
What's a grown man?
Know I ain't going broke like Joc, b*t*h it's going down (Down)
Know I'ma need a stick, ma I'm sorry, I can't cut no rock
Ghost is outside of the mansion, it's a haunt?d house (What)
Tell 'em I need a dim? or I ain't coming out (I ain't coming out)
Know how you met the plug 'cause he ain't running out (F**k)
I went inside the club and made a money pile
When money on they head, the gunners run 'em down
Hit 'em up and go head and pull up, I got the money now, yeah
Just let the counter run it, love the money sound
Hand c*ck that sh*t in they face Ray, they actin' funny style, yeah
Went through the money counter, let me thumb it now
Yeah, yeah, yeah

She drunk in love and I don't even drink, wintertime mink
Soul snatchin', man that b*t*h a thief, she done stole me
If it ain't money, it don't move me, that's the whole thang (That's the whole thang)
B*t*h I'm with the winning circle, we a gold ring (We a)
Gold bottles, gold chains, feel like Master P (Uh)
No limit to this sh*t so what you saying to me? (What you saying?)
I seen my favorite rapper, he a fan of me (Fan)
I'm blowing through Miami in an AMG
Yeah I rap, but brody play the keys, make lil mama sing
N***as lame, they just got some money, you should f**k with me
I want a better life for the fam, n***as wanna beef
Still on the 'Gram, I done hit every one of these (Everyone)
Countin' for everybody, break the lease
Run the streets like dope boys, I got coppers chasing me
Yeah it's killers and robbers in the function, they with me
I touched down, got it sold, in the morning I'ma leave

See it's tragic, said they got a hundred on E (A hundred on E)
I was laughing all in traffic, out in Cali, in a sleeve
I was fresh out of my teens with a hundred-fifty piece
F**k I look like signing for a hundred-fifty G's? (The f**k I look like?)
Listening to rappers, wasn't much I couldn't believe (Nothing I couldn't believe)
I ain't into rap beef, and it's an issue, drop the cheese
I'ma hit her til she knock kneed off these RP's
We at top speed, who pulling over? Not me (Skrrt, skrrt)
We gon' high speed, opps bleed, get you Swiss cheese'd
Feel like eight bands, pocket full of pre-bag grams
Look like Wheat Thins, black tar, whipped with Mannitol
Make the H tan, n***as broke living in the past, they can't think ahead
Opps slid through the block and never slide again (And never slide again)
I don't send shots on Instagram, I shoot at n***a's friends (Shoot at n***a's friends)
Geesky put the city in a twist, he tryna make a dread
I'ma put some t**ties on that b*t*h and make an OnlyFans
We at yo' mans and you jumped in and made a package deal, rich before my rapper deal
Blue bands, this sh*t like a loose ten, I'm a made man
And I ain't gotta move another gram, on my mama
Fifty-five hundred, EST Gee
Big boss, pink 10, blue bands, you know wa**up
Big G n***a