Get Dis Money Bryson Tiller (Ft. Big Sean)

[Intro]
Uh
Yeah

[Verse 1: Bryson Tiller]
She never thought I'd be on TV, red carpet
She treat me like I'm deceased, like I'm a dead artist
She cut me off every three seconds, her dread talking
My nigga warned me like "please dawg, be very cautious"
She gave it up to a lame and took the merit off it
She think cause we on a break, I'm finna share it, nah
I took her out Vera Wang, she back to Aeropostale
No more Benz wheel gripping, she back to her Impala
She not a lady to me, bitch, we ain't sharing pasta
She more in tune with her tramp side, hoe, where ya father at?
They think I'm 'bout to be sad crying, no, where the dollas at?
Know I saw that shit coming like Biff, where the almanac?
Let's get back to the future, I'm rich, sharing cul-de-sacs
You know the same one where Kevin Hart is at, gave her heart attacks
She knew she could've been a part of that, should've thought of that
Right before she sent me to the slums where I started at
I press red she kept calling back, huh, huh
I kept saying, aye where the dollas at? Huh, huh
She kept playing, I put a pause on that, huh
"What you gon' do next?" That's what they all ask