Bag Of Money

[Hook 1: Rick Ross] My bitch bad, looking like a bag of money That bitch bad, looking like a bag of money I go and get it and I let her count it for me I fuck her good and she always ride it for me [Hook 2: Rick Ross] She got me caught up in the moment She got me caught up in the moment I only kiss her when she on it Fuck her good, make her call me in the morning [Hook 1] [Wale] Temporary forever, levitate with a nigga I can tease you til you hate me But you hate them navel kisses We can do like 8 positions Hit it til your make up missing Baby girl my stroke official And you know I paint that picture Hoes on my line, most of ‘em 9′s Couple of ‘em dimes, but all my hoes is hard to find And I ain't always on the prowl It's just my soda mixed with brown Got me quite open for a while So let me in or let me out And I like my marijuana bright And I like my window tinted out Shout out them strippers who hustle Get yours; you know what this about I just might throw a big amount Don’t know if I’m ‘posed to take you out I just know I’m ‘posed to praise you up Don’t mean I ain't ‘posed to take you down Word up [Hook 1] [Meek Mill] My bitch bad, looking like a bag of money E’rry time she fuck me she say, “Can I have some money?” And I say, “Can I get a threesome?” She say, “Boy, you funny” But I be like for real, just pick up that phone Call on one of your girls When I’m on that pill and I pop that Perc Girl, I put in that work Long as she come to me first It's 14 racks, what I put on that purse Shit, that Birkin bag make the old dude mad When I murk through passed in a dark blue jag Say she like my style but I talk too fast And I got that drive and she just might crash Hold up She say she fucking with me the long way She gon’ ride this dick, I had a long day Nigga, look at my bitch, you looking the wrong way Something mean, look exactly just like the song say [Hook 1 + 2]