Paroles de la chanson My Soul par Money Man

Chanson manquante pour "Money Man" ? Proposer les paroles
Proposer une correction des paroles de "My Soul"

Paroles de la chanson My Soul par Money Man

(Taylor Michael turn it up)
(Trauma Tone)

I walk in the booth and I pour out my soul
Sold all these P's to buy diamonds and gold
If we talkin' G, then I'm fittin' the mold
Bitch I'm the shit just like I'm a commode
You comin' home with me, baby, come on
What's all that hate for, lil' nigga? Come on
I swear your silhouette turnin' me on
Turn them bags on my artists, they get that shit gone
These niggas ain't ballin', they injury-prone
Had to cut this bitch off, she keep callin' my phone
I make her scream, I make her moan
I put the 2.5 inside of a cone
Got her wet like a yacht on the beach in Miami
You still see her ass through them pants and they baggy
Got that pack on the way, I just checked on the trackin'
My bitch on the way, she gon' give me some action

Yeah, I'm on Rodeo, I just seen LeBron
I swear I feel better with you in my arms
I know for sure that the world in my palms
I'm burnin' on pressure, that shit make me calm
She love watchin' me spit on the mic and make songs
I love watchin' her frolic around in a thong
Yes, it's true, Money Man is a king like I'm Kong
I'm stayin' sharp like the sword and the stone
Fly as hell, you know I'm fly like a drone
All my hoes sexy, they bad to the bone
I lift niggas up, I don't put niggas on
800 bucks for an ounce of cologne
I swear she conceited and no, I can't blame her
She all 'bout her business and no one can change her
I trap in the projects, that shit be so dangerous
These niggas be crossin', that shit got me angry
I turned down the show, the promoter was janky
I just met a hacker and he had me thinkin'
A nigga want smoke then I'm leavin' him stankin'
I don't shoot the breeze but I will shoot this rifle
I be flippin' them whips, I just got me a title
She come to the spot and give head like a visor
I don't have a budget, I don't need advisors

Oh, oh, oh
Oh, oh, oh

I walk in the booth and I pour out my soul
Sold all these P's to buy diamonds and gold
If we talkin' G, then I'm fittin' the mold
Bitch I'm the shit just like I'm a commode
You comin' home with me, baby, come on
What's all that hate for, lil' nigga? Come on
I swear your silhouette turnin' me on
Turn them bags on my artists, they get that shit gone
These niggas ain't ballin', they injury-prone
Had to cut this bitch off, she keep callin' my phone
I make her scream, I make her moan
I put the 2.5 inside of a cone
Got her wet like a yacht on the beach in Miami
You still see her ass through them pants and they baggy
Got that pack on the way, I just checked on the trackin'
My bitch on the way, she gon' give me some action

Paroles.net dispose d’un accord de licence de paroles de chansons avec la Société des Editeurs et Auteurs de Musique (SEAM)

Les plus grands succès de Money Man