[Chorus: Gunna]
This time around, we want all the money (Yeah)
This time around, we want all the money (Yeah)
This time around, we want all the money (All the)
This time around, we want all the money
Twenty-six bitches and all 'em love me (Yeah)
Watch on they wrists and all 'em flooded (Ice)
We the real big dogs and y'all some puppies (Y'all some puppies)
[Verse 1: Gunna]
Yeah, it's the Young Wunna, real biscotti smoker, this ain't no Obama
Yeah, it's the Young Wunna, real biscotti smoker, this ain't no Obama
Yeah, it's the Young Wunna, real biscotti smoker, this ain't no Obama
Straight South Atlanta, finesse, Arm & Hammer, I say that with honor in Dior pajamas (Ayy)
Couldn't play no sports but I went got that sack, ran it back to trap, got respect from my brother
C.I.P. Troup, I'm with Duke, he with slime and that slatt, yeah, that slatt, we don't care 'bout no color (Sheesh)
Put that shit on, put that drip shit on the map, yeah, the trap, and I bought a few homes
Spent-spent the six-fifty, Rolls Cullinan and a Bentley (Skrrt), then I went Maybach, two-tone (Skrrt, skrtr, skrrt)
'Nother two-tone, it's a motherfuckin' pandemic
Must be too rich, I can't feel it (I can't feel it)
Told 'em to kill it, they-they tryna cutthroat the city
These niggas sweeter than cherry (Shit)
Rappers mad, all in they feelings (They mad)
Gunna fuckin' they bitches (So?)
Drop-top, parkin' lot pimpin' (Uh-huh)
Pimped out my whips like Xzibit
All my life, I just wanted a milli'
"What's on your wrist?" Richard Mille
With Lil Uzi when I'm out in Philly
Don't show you broke boys no pity
This time around, we want all the money (Yeah)
This time around, we want all the money (Yeah)
This time around, we want all the money (All the)
This time around, we want all the money
Twenty-six bitches and all 'em love me (Yeah)
Watch on they wrists and all 'em flooded (Ice)
We the real big dogs and y'all some puppies (Y'all some puppies)
[Verse 1: Gunna]
Yeah, it's the Young Wunna, real biscotti smoker, this ain't no Obama
Yeah, it's the Young Wunna, real biscotti smoker, this ain't no Obama
Yeah, it's the Young Wunna, real biscotti smoker, this ain't no Obama
Straight South Atlanta, finesse, Arm & Hammer, I say that with honor in Dior pajamas (Ayy)
Couldn't play no sports but I went got that sack, ran it back to trap, got respect from my brother
C.I.P. Troup, I'm with Duke, he with slime and that slatt, yeah, that slatt, we don't care 'bout no color (Sheesh)
Put that shit on, put that drip shit on the map, yeah, the trap, and I bought a few homes
Spent-spent the six-fifty, Rolls Cullinan and a Bentley (Skrrt), then I went Maybach, two-tone (Skrrt, skrtr, skrrt)
'Nother two-tone, it's a motherfuckin' pandemic
Must be too rich, I can't feel it (I can't feel it)
Told 'em to kill it, they-they tryna cutthroat the city
These niggas sweeter than cherry (Shit)
Rappers mad, all in they feelings (They mad)
Gunna fuckin' they bitches (So?)
Drop-top, parkin' lot pimpin' (Uh-huh)
Pimped out my whips like Xzibit
All my life, I just wanted a milli'
"What's on your wrist?" Richard Mille
With Lil Uzi when I'm out in Philly
Don't show you broke boys no pity
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