Lost lyrics by Money Man - original song full text. Official Lost lyrics, 2024 version | LyricsMode.com
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Money Man – Lost lyrics
[Chorus]
Pressure all in my loft
Steady gettin' this shit off
At first I was lost
Then I got me some crops
She give ass on the top
I got shooters who watch and alerted
When they aim it's precise and it's perfect
When I go in she feeling it perfect
NBA money I need a jersey
Kickin' shit in the penthouse that's furnished
She came over we fucked on the furniture
I woke up and I shot at a burglar
I be hanging with felons and murderers
Keep my name out ya mouth or we burnin' you
Send the addy we pull up and serve you
Hit stick [?]
Plottin' on niggas we sinister
Just sold a bag to a minister
I wanna feel on your curvature
My lil bih from Decatur she savage
But she pretty and keep a lil ratchet
Keep a weedman, just show me yo factory
Sippin' drank I ain' sippin' on daiquiri



[Verse 1]
All this swipin' increasing my salary
Different cities I took this shit national
She say please come in go in my vaginal
Fendi jogger my outfit be casual
Gucci headband but no I'm not hoopin'
Niggas push up on us then they stupid
They ain't hip to the dawg, well they clueless
Bought a stick and I know I'ma use it
Me and my niggas on the same page
We talkin' on the phone we use code names
White bitch same color cocaine
We ain't fuck around with no lames
On my left hand 4 rangs
All these blues ain't no change
Even with the money I won't change
Even with the fame I'm humble
One way ticket out to Humboldt
All these racks I need two vaults
Shout out my niggas in Duval
Free all my niggas behind the wall
Wish I could burn one with all of y'all
Wish y'all had no time at all
There's money out here and I'ma find it all
I'ma go fill up this Louis duffle
4 years ago I still struggled
Now I gotta sack and I'm still hustlin'
My lil youngin' gonna kill somethin'
Heard your mixtape I ain't feel nothin'
The streets I ain't trust for real
Need an M before I sign a deal
Seen a scale and it gave me chills
Remember just keep it real


[Chorus]
Pressure all in my loft
Steady gettin' this shit off
At first I was lost
Then I got me some crops
She give ass on the top
I got shooters who watch and alerted
When they aim it's precise and it's perfect
When I go in she feeling it perfect
NBA money I need a jersey
Kickin' shit in the penthouse that's furnished
She came over we fucked on the furniture
I woke up and I shot at a burglar
I be hanging with felons and murderers
Keep my name out ya mouth or we burnin' you
Send the addy we pull up and serve you
Hit stick [?]
Plottin' on niggas we sinister
Just sold a bag to a minister
I wanna feel on your curvature
My lil bih from Decatur she savage
But she pretty and keep a lil ratchet
Keep a weedman, just show me yo factory
Sippin' drank I ain' sippin' on daiquiri
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Lyrics taken from /money_man-lost-1636601.html

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