Think it's a game
Bobby Kritical
Ooh, huh
[Verse 1]
Too much bands, nigga can't hold up his pants
Hit the club doin' my dance
I been gettin' way too money, trappin' all night
So I give the bitch pipe when I can
I been on way too many desert flights
So the pilot and the flight attendants know who I am
Used to serve grams out a grey Dodge van
Even back then, I was doin' my dance
Even my teachers said I wouldn't be shit
Even my priest said I wouldn't be shit
That's why I spent that much on my wrist
That's why I spent that much on your bitch
I'm the same nigga, I ain't never had shit
I'm the same young nigga that was gettin' wick'
Better not think this shit no lick
I can make one call, get your whole shit flipped, bitch
[Chorus]
Yeah
Young nigga walk around with a whole hundred on him, goddamn (Ooh shit, goddamn, goddamn)
Young nigga walk around with a whole hundred bands (Shit, shit)
Hit the strip club, these bitches know just who I am (Hah, it's Q Money)
Hit the strip club, blow that money like a fan (Ain't shit funny)
Got too much bands (Yeah)
Battle of the bands in my pants (It's goin')
Nigga, you a fan (Goddamn)
I'm poppin' shit like a Xan', poppin' shit, Perc-10 (Yeah)
Private jet when I land (Private jet)
Palm trees in the sand (Yeah, yeah, yeah)
Bought a new fn
Hit you and your mans (Fire, fire)
What the fuck is you sayin'? (Fire, fire)
Fuck is you sayin'? (Huh)
[Verse 2]
Niggas counted me out, I was sleepin' on the couch
Why the fuck was you doubtin'? Yeah
Keep a nine on me, no golf, yeah
Nigga had to find his way out, yeah
Nigga had to take a different route
Fuck around, got a deal, then moved to the South (Think It's a Game)
Yeah, I was tryna make my mama proud
Remember when her ass used to kick me out
Now I'm 'bout to fuck around, buy a new house
And guess what? Still gon' fuck on her couch
Fuck 'round, get my mouth bustdown
My grandma told me to invest in my smile
Brand new Rollie with a Arabic dial
Bought a bracelet 'cause the other hand felt left out
Two-tone Cuban on my neck right now
Just like my wrist, your bitch bustdown, yeah
[Chorus]
Yeah
Young nigga walk around with a whole hundred on him, goddamn (Goddamn, goddamn)
Young nigga walk around with a whole hundred bands (That's a fact, nigga)
Hit the strip club, these bitches know just who I am (It's Q Money)
Hit the strip club, blow that money like a fan (Ain't shit funny)
Got too much bands (Yeah)
Battle of the bands in my pants
Nigga, you a fan (For real)
I'm poppin' shit like a Xan', poppin' shit, Perc-10 (Ten)
Private jet when I land (Land, land)
Palm trees in the sand
Bought a new fn (Fire)
Hit you and your mans (Fire)
What the fuck is you sayin'? (Fire)
Fuck is you sayin'?
[Intro] Think it's a game Bobby Kritical Ooh, huh [Verse 1] Too much bands, nigga can't hold up his pants Hit the club doin' my dance I been gettin' way too money, trappin' all night So I give the bitch pipe when I can I been on way too many desert flights So the pilot and the flight attendants know who I am Used to serve grams out a grey Dodge van Even back then, I was doin' my dance Even my teachers said I wouldn't be shit Even my priest said I wouldn't be shit That's why I spent that much on my wrist That's why I spent that much on your bitch I'm the same nigga, I ain't never had shit I'm the same young nigga that was gettin' wick' Better not think this shit no lick I can make one call, get your whole shit flipped, bitch [Chorus] Yeah Young nigga walk around with a whole hundred on him, goddamn (Ooh shit, goddamn, goddamn) Young nigga walk around with a whole hundred bands (Shit, shit) Hit the strip club, these bitches know just who I am (Hah, it's Q Money) Hit the strip club, blow that money like a fan (Ain't shit funny) Got too much bands (Yeah) Battle of the bands in my pants (It's goin') Nigga, you a fan (Goddamn) I'm poppin' shit like a Xan', poppin' shit, Perc-10 (Yeah) Private jet when I land (Private jet) Palm trees in the sand (Yeah, yeah, yeah) Bought a new fn Hit you and your mans (Fire, fire) What the fuck is you sayin'? (Fire, fire) Fuck is you sayin'? (Huh) [Verse 2] Niggas counted me out, I was sleepin' on the couch Why the fuck was you doubtin'? Yeah Keep a nine on me, no golf, yeah Nigga had to find his way out, yeah Nigga had to take a different route Fuck around, got a deal, then moved to the South (Think It's a Game) Yeah, I was tryna make my mama proud Remember when her ass used to kick me out Now I'm 'bout to fuck around, buy a new house And guess what? Still gon' fuck on her couch Fuck 'round, get my mouth bustdown My grandma told me to invest in my smile Brand new Rollie with a Arabic dial Bought a bracelet 'cause the other hand felt left out Two-tone Cuban on my neck right now Just like my wrist, your bitch bustdown, yeah [Chorus] Yeah Young nigga walk around with a whole hundred on him, goddamn (Goddamn, goddamn) Young nigga walk around with a whole hundred bands (That's a fact, nigga) Hit the strip club, these bitches know just who I am (It's Q Money) Hit the strip club, blow that money like a fan (Ain't shit funny) Got too much bands (Yeah) Battle of the bands in my pants Nigga, you a fan (For real) I'm poppin' shit like a Xan', poppin' shit, Perc-10 (Ten) Private jet when I land (Land, land) Palm trees in the sand Bought a new fn (Fire) Hit you and your mans (Fire) What the fuck is you sayin'? (Fire) Fuck is you sayin'? Explain Request ×
Lyrics taken from
/q_money-whole_100-1739197.html
