Money Man – Turnt Lyrics

(Yellanotears, notears)
(Yeah, Sauceman)

I put her diamonds because she the finest
I put her in Rick and she holdin’ my blicky
AMG Wagon, it sit like a Tonka
Hang out the window, I’m holdin’ the chopper
My jeans Dior with that Burberry boxers
Spanish curator and her face is Korean
Money increasin’, it never completin’
She was a hood bitch, I showed her the ropes
Put her Prada, she used to be broke

Trappin’ or robbin’, which one you gon’ pick?
When you from where I from, nigga, good don’t exist
Townhouse, two levels, it got luxury amenities
I buy that bitch with a made-up identity
Shoppin’ boutique on the daily, splurgin’
I fuck her good, now her toes curlin’
Japanese bitch finna walk on my back
Did a show in the hood, I was clutchin’ my strap
She not my type, she not turnt up enough

Expensive bitch, pay two hundred for lunch
Stack up them bricks and she rockin’ like six
She ’bout her business, she stay on her shit
Walk in Chanel, cop her two or three purses
Fuck it, right now, it’s a hundred for verses
Bottega trainers, she run to that monyun
On an opp day, ride around with a hundred gun
Racks in the pillow case, I do not need a safe
When you go strike, make sure they do not see your face
I blow that whistle if I feel offended

He not really like that, he just be pretendin’
She not my type, she not turnt up enough
She not my type, she not turnt up enough
She ’bout her business, so I had to cuff
She from the hood, but I put her in Prada
She was a seven, but now she a model
Bottega trainers, I got her in trainin’
Run up that pape’, got her countin’, sellin’ canes
Runnin’ my hood, they be worship and praisin’

She not my type, she ain’t turnt up enough
She not my type, she ain’t turnt up enough
Yeah, we fucked, but I ain’t like her that much
That nigga trash, y’all just hypin’ him up
Maybach truck outside, I’m scoopin’ her up
Muscle car, foreign car, which should I whip? (Go, go, go, go)
Get shot in your face, you lil’ niggas ain’t slick (Baow)
I raised this bank account, bitch, I’m the shit (Speak)

I’m way too big for a skeleton Carti’
I talk too much shit, man, I had to go ‘Rari
Loaf boy, SG, nigga can’t guard me
New strand ready and another finna harvest
Just takin’ off, but the show been started (Yeah)
Late, that’s the Wock’, got me pullin’ up tardy
I shitted on purpose, better not say sorry
The brand new foreign

Loyalty, I’m stayin’ down with my niggas (Loaf)
“Spoil me,” that’s what I hear from my bitches (Both)
The chop that I got, it can’t fit in my britches
AR black and brown, it’s the Virgil edition
This year, almost spend ’bout a ticket on opps (One)
I’m tired of sprain’ these ho-ass niggas
The back of the Glock got a lil’ bitty box
You tap on the trigger, it let off a fifty
Hit it (Grrt), hit it (Grrt), hit it (Grrt), hit it (Grrt)

Who want the smoke? I don’t hear nothin’, crickets
Why niggas hate? I don’t know and don’t get it
I know what it is, they see competition
They know I’m threat
Extra, doin’ too much
These niggas actors, but not like a movie ’cause they don’t get paid (Broke)
Not like a trick (No)
I’m an investor
Lift up your titties, boy, you out of state

She not my type, she ain’t turnt up enough
She not my type, she ain’t turnt up enough
Yeah, we fucked, but I ain’t like her that much
That nigga trash, y’all just hypin’ him up
Maybach truck outside, I’m scoopin’ her up
Muscle car, foreign car, which should I whip?
Get shot in your face, you lil’ niggas ain’t slick
I raised this bank account, bitch, I’m the shit