24 Lyrics – Money Man, Lil Baby
Singer: Money Man, Lil Baby
Title: 24
Burnin’ on Lilikoi, ashes look corduroy
R.I.P. Kobe Bryant, R.I.P. 24
I can make a cool 50K in less than twenty-four hours
Ridin’ with the pack through the Tennessee mountains
VPN, SOCKS, and at least three routers
I’ma thumb through it, I don’t need no counter
Had to resuscitate a b#tch, my neck almost drowned her
I got oil, I got hemp, I got wax, I got flower
Burnin’ on pre-roll, finna go to Pluto
Drippin’ real hard when I’m hoppin’ out two-door
I just met a psychedelic plug named Hugo
Thirty laptops in my mother****in’ condo
White collar diamonds, n#gg# ballin’ like Lonzo
These n#gg#s overrated like Joe Flacco
Feelin’ like Jim Jones, n#gg#, I’m a capo
I’ma flip a Rolls-Royce, I’m feelin’ like Pop Smoke
Banana Cream Cake in my mother****in’ hemp wrap
If I don’t like the smell, then the pack get sent back
If I don’t like his energy, I push a n#gg# sh#t back
Making hash oil, listening to Bank, Big Facts
Making hash oil, listening to Scream, Big Facts
All that slick talkin’ finna get a n#gg# kidnapped
Gelonade got a n#gg# finna go and lift off
I’ma empty out the magazine when I’m pissed off
I’m on that Wedding Pie, it got me geeked
My b#tch hit it twice and then she went to sleep
I drop bud on the clock with the perfect technique
I’ma hit from the rear, I wan’ grab her obliques
I ain’t got time in the day for my females be mad at me
Internet racks, I’ma run it up rapidly
She know I’m vicious, I’m ****in’ her savagely
She know I get racks, she know my mentality
Grew up in the trap watching Kobe yam on a n#gg#
Pull up in the Porsche, yeah, the Pan’ on a n#gg#
Yeah, pull up in the Dodge, yeah, the Ram on a n#gg#
Anybody try, yeah, I’ma blam on n#gg#s
I’m the head bad guy, fifty different gridlines
Turn a lacefront to a fire, fire hairline
I was over drippin’, I should start my own clothing line
Got two jits, dawg, I’ll die for both of mine
I ain’t never satisfied ’til my money increase
****ed up the profile, too many inquiries
They be low-key hatin’, I can hear ’em whispering
All these baguette chains, you can see ’em glimmering
Had to make a U-turn, I just seen a roadblock
I ain’t playin’ no games, I ain’t sparin’ no opps
It’s a full moon now, so I’m burnin’ Moon Rock
Livin’ off schemes, why is he on tip-top?
Burnin’ on Lilikoi, ashes look corduroy
R.I.P. Kobe Bryant, R.I.P. 24
I can make a cool 50K in less than twenty-four hours
Ridin’ with the pack through the Tennessee mountains
VPN, SOCKS, and at least three routers
I’ma thumb through it, I don’t need no counter
Had to resuscitate a b#tch, my neck almost drowned her
I got oil, I got hemp, I got wax, I got flower
A1 Zone 4, I’m feelin’ like Rocko
Big, big spender, take a jet to Morocco
I got pretty women showin’ t#tt#es like I’m Flacko
I came in a hard top, I’m still in the drop, though
I can make the charts drop whenever I wan’ drop somethin’
I can give my big bro a dime, he’ll pop somethin’
These n#gg#s not real slime, they imposter
I know that my opps somewhere now playin’ possum
I come from a different type of cloth, we don’t gossip
p#ss# n#gg# actin’ like it’s up, we’ll chop him
She diggin’ the rocks in my ear, I’m a rockstar
Come from out the trenches, gettin’ paid like a popstar
I be sellin’ weed by the P like a rasta
Who was in the car? Only me and a chopper
I can make they heart stop if I decide to pop up
I can make a million every month and don’t drop nothin’
I found out a way to make a thousand-dollar profit, uh
Pilot say it’s smellin’ like weed in the cockpit
I done made a quarter this week in Huaraches
Top model with me tryna feed me hibachi
I done got too much to lose, I’m cautious
I done ran it up, I got sixteen watches
Which one I’ma drive? I got sixteen options
Hoppin’ out thirty clip, bangin’ 4 Pockets
Burnin’ on Lilikoi, ashes look corduroy
R.I.P. Kobe Bryant, R.I.P. 24
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Lyrics Money Man, Lil Baby – 24
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