Rick Ross - Bag Of Money (Extended Remix)

Song Rating: 7.14/10

Song lyrics:

[Intro: Rick Ross] + (T-Pain)
She self made too, therefore she winning
New Money, MMG, Self Made 2
Taking over the world
Cmon baby girl lets spend this money

[Hook x2: Rick Ross & T-Pain]
My chick bad looking like a bag of hunnids
My chick bad looking like a bag of hunnids
I blow it fast so you know I got her stuntin
I blow it fast so you know I got her stuntin

[Interlude: Rick Ross & T-Pain] + (Wale)
She got me caught up in the moment (You got some nice pineapples, for real)
She got me caught up in the moment (Wale though, double M, remix)
I only kiss her when she on it
White Ferrari and she got her doin donuts, hol up

[Verse 1: Wale]
She like Wa-le my stroke game be on point
Yeah, shawty losing her mind her composure most of her voice
And she say she hate the word moist, but she cant escape from that vibe
You can play fight with that cat, me, I k** that p**y 9 times
I slow it down, let me slow it down
Ever since I hit that, look at it, that sh** I got you poking now
Numbers we aint throwing down, not me, no way, no how
Cause you know them screenshot broads always gonna run they mouth
Okay, Im far too drunk Im not driving (whats up?), you know open bars are on fire
A little green and white in my pocket, so this song is now Bag of Mara
Caught up in the wrong timing, yeah, Jacob made my medallion
Just post up, but dont coach much, but I love the stadium talent

[Verse 2: Omarion]
Bright lights picture, all right colors
Ill let you count my money, dont think that you own me
Youre my bag of my money, youre my bag of honey
I beez in your trap, while youre yelling f** me
I be on some other sh**
Maybach O up in this b**h
Tell you about them other n***as
They be lying about they figures
Im bout it, bout it I pull the trigger
Yall be so lame
We k**in the game, I dance in the bank
We so mafioso, you aint never know though
Never gonna know so, no never no, no, no, no, no, no


[Verse 3: Yo Gotti]
My b**h amazing; show stopper
Work at the titty club; p**y popper
Top drop white on white 645
I burnt her up from 5 oclock until 6:45
Mr. 60 minutes, Mrs. Chanel, and Fendi
I hit her in the Porsche and burnt her up a new Infiniti
Presidential Rollie, JFK, she Mrs. Kennedy
Rose gold his or hers, diamonds and furs
Want a little suede, one on one bag
Look like a duffel bag of money, she beyond that
And Im beyond swag, young thug n***a
Drug dealer; MMG affiliated blood n***a
That 50k on that vaca
20 bands on that birkin bag, 12 hunnid on that dinner date
We eat lobsters from Florida, French-ful flowers
Put you on the next level sh**, world is ours

[Verse 4: Rockie Fresh]
Got my Sox cap, top back, shorty you could come outside
We can ride, drive an 88, you know how we drive
You just want somebody thats consistent and that will provide
Im just trying to live in your division when your legs divide
I could take you high, you say your man dont appreciate you
He should learn to be more grateful for somebody thats been faithful
Instead he trying to play you, you know trying to Stevie J you
I just wanna make you rain like we in the month of April
And we hella young, lets have some fun and never be on dummy

Got a good sense of humor, but you cant be acting funny
You will get ate for dinner, but Im hungry for some money
Every time I go and get it, then Ill let you count it for me


[Verse 5: Trina]
I-I-Im looking like a money money money badge
Thats why these n***as want me bad
Cause Im so f**ing special, diamonds and precious metals
Giuseppe stilettos, Im the queen of the ghetto
Trina, I stay winning, I keep these n***as spinning
Im looking for a boss, let me be your lieutenant
Let me be your ma**euse, fine head in the coupe
Ménage in the suite, boy, you know Im the truth
I stay stunning, looking like a bad of hundreds
You know your momma running, I keep that money coming
He bring that money home, he let me count it for him
Now Im married to the mob and Im riding for him

[Verse 6: Lil Wayne]
Uh, my-my b**h mad cause Id rather get that money
I give her this dick she say that dick better than money
I say, Can I get some head? She say, Let me get my scrunchie
Serve her like a country, got that dope dick she a junkie
She say Tunechi, this your p**y, I say Tell me anything
Then I s** her nipple ring, eat that p**y; Listerine
She coming I make sure my b**h bad; shell take yours
And she do tricks on that dick like a skateboard

[Verse 7: Tyga]
Uh, Maybach Riders, gold chain buyers
Gold wings saline your b**h say Im the fliest
I make five thou gold yall, spent that in about an hour
And my b**h like Bob May, ball hard til I get the callous
Shout out I aint got no stylist, shout out to you n***as keep trying
Bag of money, bag of money, I eat the money like I eat the p**y
King gold chains, they follow me, presidential car presidential suite
She bad and all, model type, but I like me a big booty
One time for them 9 to 5s, one time for them stripper dimes
One time for them college girls, one time for those who cant decide
I love her more I take them all, she doing bad I break her off
Im T-Raw, dont need yall, everything I do is so well done


[Verse 8: French Montana]
I push the drop and let her ride shotty
My b**h bad looking like a bag of mollies
Hit the crib make a p**no, my diamonds flash like photos
500 on my auto and I bought it out; f** car note
Shorty know exactly who the realest is
Murder that (ahh) leave no witnesses
Started from the streets, turned to businesses
Dirty bag of money, stack it to where that ceiling is
Got, shorty, grab it, take it, to that, money
Shorty, dancing, for them, hundreds, got me, paying, on exonics
b**h Im balling all green, trying to buy a ball team
No I suit her, roosting, know we going all in

[Verse 9: Black Cobain]
Rolling up some k**er, riding through my city
Bumping Bag of Money got a bag of money with me
She conceited, she know that, she was down with a n***a before rap
If I had the strap, she would hold that, she dont even smoke, but shell roll that
For me she drinking Henny she dont like it though
She f** with real n***as cause thats all she know
Make her pop that p**y hole, make her bring that money back
You n***as couldnt f** my b**h if you gave her a hundred stacks
She all about a purse, not a bag, though, she work
When Im in the p**y I surf, when she bless a n***a, like church
Im on this bag of money remix
Ill be all up in her Vickies but she cannot keep a secret


[Interlude & Hook]

Date of text publication: 19.01.2021 at 13:51