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murder she wrote - warhol.ss & nino paid lyrics

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[intro: nino paid]
(d*mn, drako, you made this?)
come on (alright)
you ready? let’s do it

[chorus: nino paid]
finally rich, but the way i’ve been spendin’ this sh*t i just pray that i don’t go broke (huh)
my new b*tch bad, my new crib fatter than ever and i still got my foot on they throat (alright)
it’s amazing, we stuck to the plan, i love all the fans, i love when they say i’m the goat (i can’t go back)
i don’t pay n*ggas for nothin’, my brother gon’ bounce out on ’em, it’s murder she wrote (frrt)
n*ggas gon’ change for a dollar, it could be your brother, that’s somethin’ i already know (already know)
take me to neimans, i’m thinkin’ ’bout when i ain’t have it, and same time pickin’ sh*t out
i know you just chasin’ a bag, i been told wannie, “stop cuttin’ up dope in the house”

[verse 1: warhol.ss & nino paid]
popstar jewelry, the wrist hot topic
pricing a four fourty*eight, finna cop it
i caught the b*tch in a trance, she all in my face, that d*mn near count as a body
five star michelin, eat at the finest, she got a head on her, but she ain’t the brightest
i’m moving tact’ like a seal or marine, with a big four nickel, i’m no street fighter
yeah, ayy, creating sp*ce is a whole ‘nother distance
too out of reach, b*tch gotta get on her toes if she want a chance to feel this (one chance)
i got a thing for a lit b*tch, i’m flexin’ and stretching, a gymnast (flexin’)
i don’t even wanna talk, i be in my moods, i’m chasin’ it, tryna instant (i’m chasin’)
i don’t give two f*cks about feelings, i turn sh*t up tryna run this business (turn sh*t up)
bro rich as f*ck, but mad he can’t do much ’til this sh*t legitimate (sh*t)
got a few n*ggas hating, they can’t come around, but i got a reason for everything (all i need)
i’m one of the hardest, pound*for*pound, i’m beating ’em down, the bell rang (cool)
i waited, i’m finally ready, i know i’ma blow and you n*ggas ain’t stoppin’ this sh*t (alright)
[chorus: nino paid]
finally rich, but the way i’ve been spendin’ this sh*t i just pray that i don’t go broke (huh)
my new b*tch bad, my new crib fatter than ever and i still got my foot on they throat (alright)
it’s amazing, we stuck to the plan, i love all the fans, i love when they say i’m the goat (i can’t go back)
i don’t pay n*ggas for nothin’, my brother gon’ bounce out on ’em, it’s murder she wrote (frrt)
n*ggas gon’ change for a dollar, it could be your brother, that’s somethin’ i already know (already know)
take me to neimans, i’m thinkin’ about when i ain’t have it, and same time pickin’ sh*t out (huh)
i know you just chasin’ the bag, i been told wannie, “stop cuttin’ up dope in the house”

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