Bankroll E

Whoa, whoa, whoa. Whoa, Yeah. I got street money, R. I. P. Bankroll. Stuffed up shoe box when the bank is Closed. I'm back with the digits, You banking on hoes. You got the game twisted, you gon' get exposed. Riding drop top with my fucking ghost. In the motherfucking tropicals. We overcame all these obstacles. Carti my frames, that's my opticals. I got street money, man I feel like Boochie, Uh. She see the chains, now she throwing coochie, Uh. Her wipe me down, I feel like I'm Boosie, uh. We ride around in the Bentley coupe-y, Uh. I got street money, R. I. P. Bankroll. Stuffed up shoe box when the bank is Closed. I'm back with the digits, You banking on hoes. You got the game twisted, you gon' get exposed. My bitch down to ride, and that's on the Town. I just piped her down in my Gucci Slides. I don't do no cuffing, Uh, bitch that is a crime, uh. Ain't no marriage talking, uh, bitch you out of Line. I got at least 'bout a thousand hoes. Rob Matt smoke at least a thousand O's. I will never ever sell my soul. My plug stupid, nigga shout out Dro. I got street money, R. I. P. Bankroll. Stuffed up shoe box when the bank is Closed. I'm back with the digits, You banking on hoes. You got the game twisted, you gon' get exposed. Whoa, Whoa, Whoa, Yeah.