Show It BeatKing (Ft. Bun B)

[Chorus: BeatKing]
If you getting money, young nigga show it
Young nigga show it
If you getting money, young nigga blow it
Young nigga blow up
Throw it on that bitch, throw it on that bitch
Throw it on that bitch, throw it on that bitch
Throw it on that bitch, throw it on that bitch
Throw it on that bitch, hold up, hold up

[Verse 1: BeatKing]
Club god got the juice
Pull up in that coupe, all the strippers call me Zeus
Praise this name, I got to the paper with no excuse
Tip it, slap it, tease in the back, my trunk sit obtuse, swoosh
I just ran game on the yellow
Tip it, swang, hit the propeller
I be down the block, I get gwuap, I'm sippin' drank, rich forever
Nigga I be banging these hoes, never saving these hoes
From the North to the South, my paper or else I'm a boss, I swang any 4's
Paper full of bottles, table full of models
If a nigga mean muggin' then it's a table full of problems
Texas Hammer gang
We got Tec's and hammers aimed at your motherfucking brain
And they ain't coming from the pawn shop so they ain't gone jam
I'm bending corners in the lamb'
Bitch I'm Club God, broke [?]
H Town we been stuck cause we ain't got no more Act
Young nigga show them racks, hold up