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lirik lagu moola – youngiice

[intro]
whoa whoa whoa whoa
yeah yeah yeah yeah
yuh! yuh! yay yay yay yay yay
yuh! yuh! yuh! yuh!

[verse 1]
straight riding in a scr-pper
on the road to fiscal about the yaper
going through the paper like a staple
don’t you understand about the pesos?
pray the dead homies are in heaven wearing halos (on god!)
can’t you see i’m a threat man the boy been a vet
i couldn’t care less if the b-tch say that she wet (nope)
i don’t give a f-ck if the b-tch say that she wet (nope)
unless the b-tch bringing me a motherf-ckin’ check
my ex girl got fed up, it’s cool i got my head
cause the shit helped me get my bread up
now i’m living better
counting all the cheese where the cheddar?
better pay your fees or get set up (or get set up!)
i’m all about the green: broccoli, lettuce, cabbage, celery
collard greens, spinach, artichoke, and the green peas for the team
man i’ll hit any body with the beam for a bean
man she’ll ride anybody on the team

[hook]
making moola, gouda, guap
selling c-ke up on the block (yuh)
making moola, gouda, guap
selling c-ke up on the block (yuh)
if you talking you’ll get shot
hit ’em with a hundred yah
if you talking you’ll get shot
hold up let me bend the block

[verse 2]
yeah i ride solo dolo with the .44
if not then i’m riding with the bro bros
we kick it like a dojo
b-tch don’t be f-cking up my mojo
your b-tch is the reason why my phone blows
ducking from the po po (yuh)
double cups sipping slo mo
if they start to beefing like the four go
tell ’em keep they mouth closed
cuz straight snitchin’ that’s a no-no
i only love benji no homo
pause, play
i swear to god i’m chasing money every single day
i pray to god my shooters go to heaven every day
cause they been catching bodies many different ways
oh shit d-mn
they say i’m ridin’ ’round with some motherf-ckin’ k!llers
long banana clips like we feeding some gorillas
man they think it’s 21 the way we busting on the dealers
tell ’em f-ck ’em if they ain’t bro we the only ones that feel us, feel us?
no square circles in my circle b-tch f-ck your eggos
i want my bread and cream something like a bagel
stacking money high like a kid with some legos
i want my money fast, asap “pesos”
my pretty long hair shawty always riding for me
she know’s i’m going to chase the paper every single morning
she always worry for me she tells me all the warnings
i just never listen but that’s a different story

[verse 3]
w-double o-d-z g-a-n-g yeah that’s we
rolling deep smoking tree
brodie pour me up some heem
man don’t start no beef won’t be no beef
oven mitt we hold the heat
i’ll check a boy nike’s on feet
boy i’m fresh i stay on fleek
yuh yuh yuh boy i’m fresh i stay on fleek
whoa whoa whoa whoa
yeah yeah yeah yeah
yuh!

- youngiice

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