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lirik lagu fast money – surf god

[intro: surf god]
it’s surf
n*ggas know what the f*ck’s goin’ on, man
the reigning champ straight out of southside

[verse 1: surf god]
“don’t let that fast money get you,” what mama said
i been gassin’, i got money issues, i hate to say it
i can’t stop it, once you build that trap and get to shoppin’, sh*t you locked in
buyin’ all these ‘bows like they was pros, i need a top ten
love a ratchet b*tch, them hoes just shut up ’til you d*ck ’em down
learned a magic trick, he pulled his back, then it go chick*chick*pow
i need a nasty b*tch, the only freak you had was black & mild
lipgloss was shiny too, she turned me on and all she did was smile
baby, where you from? tryna rock your world (tryna rock your, i’m tryna rock)
baby girl, let me get some (yeah), tryna stretch them curls (let me test ’em, baby, let me stretch ’em)
it’s a rain storm, check the forecast, surf in the club
n*ggas finished, got they hands out like they askin’ for a hug
takin’ shots, i’m in the galleria tryin’ not to spend a dub
smokin’ spinners, time to pop out when i’m beatin’ down her lungs
baby, show me somethin’, break it down, then throw it in reverse
monkey see, monkey do, that’s why these n*ggas never first
broke cracker hatin’ on me, put that loser in a verse
i know some millions waitin’ on me, won’t give that price up to a he*rs*
loaded off them ‘woods, i f*cked around and wrecked my chrysler
pulled up to your hood, why all the spots start lookin’ nicer?
you a ‘burbs boy, you in the shallow end, this sh*t get deep
be done burnt boy, you f*ckin’ with them wolves, your ass a sheep
i won’t let up, this heavy metal, this sh*t get rockin’
i got fed up, i pulled the lever, this b*tch start barkin’
it’s a set*up, can’t take the pressure, look how he talkin’
keep your head up, not bein’ clever, your ass a target
why they hatin’ on me?
like i ain’t risk it all to get my n*ggas out them streets (no cap)
read that crystal ball, it said for me to make a key (yeah)
added mannitol, ran some zips up in a week
this some sh*t you wouldn’t believe, this some sh*t you gotta see
murder on the floor, who gon’ ride? who gon’ leave?
i done seen it all, that ain’t your bro, he a leech
let me make that call, send your mama to the priest, another sucker put to sleep
ayy, money, where the load at? let’s f*ck the city
we got bricks and we got ‘bows slappin’ (no cap), we be the tickets
couple n*ggas and they trigger happy, tryna make sh*t happen
with my 4s, never leave the static, leave my guys in action
hit that road pushin’ heavy traffic, baby girl get active
got that snow, tryna climb a mountain, p*ssy wet like fountain
only gangsters and some trappers around, b*tch, can’t you tell?
mixin’ frances and exotic too loud, just take a smell
[verse 2: baby money]
tell you that the ‘za too loud, we takin’ l’s
and my youngin get caught for a body, we pay his bail
n*gga ain’t never took sh*t from los, he take a sh*ll
fifty pointers fallin’ out of my watch, we rich as h*ll
on my third place, serve a whole thing, came from curry plays
put one*fifty on your gang like what herb say
a freak b*tch, chopper blowin’ on the first date
he say he hustle ’cause he finally sold his first eight
drop a big bag out the air, make the earth shake
at fifth ave like, “what you wear?” i got more pape’
they tryna add me up, but i’m tryna tell ’em los straight
my b*tch jacket moncler, it’s a cold life

- surf god

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