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Shad Da God – 420 lyrics
God!
[Hook]
420, smoke out the pound
Bitches and money, bitches and drugs, enough to go round
Bitches and drugs!
Bitches and money and money and choppas and choppa rounds
Bitches and drugs!
Bitches and dope raw jeans they should've cropped the town
I'm living to count up the money
I'm living to count up the money
I'm thumbing and thumbing the hunnids (racks!)
I start count' the muhfuckin' money (racks!)
I love count' the muhfuckin' money (bankrolls!)
I'm living to count up the money (bankrolls!)
I'm living to count up the money
I start count' the muhfuckin' money
I slow count the muhfuckin' money
[Verse 1]
Fast count it by the nigga, don't know how to fast count it
If your thumb hurting, that's how you know you was counting
Where I'm from? Bitch I'm from ounces
I'm gon' knee us a dish
Jump out the porch with the work now we jump out the coupe cos the roof got no ceiling!
4 door wheel with the backdoor tinted window truck gotta hit ya hoe
Fuck you, hoe
Nigga, fuck you
Nigga fuck the judge, nigga
Free lil 'scoe
Bankrolls got some jeans on 'em
Maison got a lil lean on 'em
And the pocket rocket got a beam on it
And the Audemar got a screen on it!
[Hook]
420, smoke out the pound
Bitches and money, bitches and drugs, enough to go round
Bitches and drugs!
Bitches and money and money and choppas and choppa rounds
Bitches and drugs!
Bitches and dope raw jeans they should've cropped the town
I'm living to count up the money
I'm living to count up the money
I'm thumbing and thumbing the hunnids (racks!)
I start count' the muhfuckin' money (racks!)
I love count' the muhfuckin' money (bankrolls!)
I'm living to count up the money (bankrolls!)
I'm living to count up the money
I start count' the muhfuckin' money
I slow count the muhfuckin' money
[Verse 2]
Tote the champagne
Pour up Bailey (pour it up, pour it up!)
Pour out the lean
They tell me I should've dropped
I'm fucking a percocet fiend
She grown, let her pussy be clean
I'm riding with the stick on me
And I gotta hunnid in a magazine
Got some pounds of the bumbaclat weed
And nothing! Nothing!
Brought the scales on the low
Got some bail on the low
Got some head from ya hoe (got some head from ya hoe?)
Nigga bitch in the ass, kick a nigga in the ass with a Margelia toe
In Cali I OG I blunt it
I really just fucked up some money
[Hook]
420, smoke out the pound
Bitches and money, bitches and drugs, enough to go round
Bitches and drugs!
Bitches and money and money and choppas and choppa rounds
Bitches and drugs!
Bitches and dope raw jeans they should've cropped the town
I'm living to count up the money
I'm living to count up the money
I'm thumbing and thumbing the hunnids (racks!)
I start count' the muhfuckin' money (racks!)
I love count' the muhfuckin' money (bankrolls!)
I'm living to count up the money (bankrolls!)
I'm living to count up the money
I start count' the muhfuckin' money
I slow count the muhfuckin' money
[Outro]
Tote the champagne
Pour up Bailey
Pour out the lean
They tell me I should've dropped
I'm fucking a percocet fiend
She grown, let her pussy be clean
I'm riding with the stick on me
And I gotta hunnid in a magazine
Hol' up, hol' up, God!
[Hook]
420, smoke out the pound
Bitches and money, bitches and drugs, enough to go round
Bitches and drugs!
Bitches and money and money and choppas and choppa rounds
Bitches and drugs!
Bitches and dope raw jeans they should've cropped the town
I'm living to count up the money
I'm living to count up the money
I'm thumbing and thumbing the hunnids (racks!)
I start count' the muhfuckin' money (racks!)
I love count' the muhfuckin' money (bankrolls!)
I'm living to count up the money (bankrolls!)
I'm living to count up the money
I start count' the muhfuckin' money
I slow count the muhfuckin' money
[Verse 1]
Fast count it by the nigga, don't know how to fast count it
If your thumb hurting, that's how you know you was counting
Where I'm from? Bitch I'm from ounces
I'm gon' knee us a dish
Jump out the porch with the work now we jump out the coupe cos the roof got no ceiling!
4 door wheel with the backdoor tinted window truck gotta hit ya hoe
Fuck you, hoe
Nigga, fuck you
Nigga fuck the judge, nigga
Free lil 'scoe
Bankrolls got some jeans on 'em
Maison got a lil lean on 'em
And the pocket rocket got a beam on it
And the Audemar got a screen on it!
[Hook]
420, smoke out the pound
Bitches and money, bitches and drugs, enough to go round
Bitches and drugs!
Bitches and money and money and choppas and choppa rounds
Bitches and drugs!
Bitches and dope raw jeans they should've cropped the town
I'm living to count up the money
I'm living to count up the money
I'm thumbing and thumbing the hunnids (racks!)
I start count' the muhfuckin' money (racks!)
I love count' the muhfuckin' money (bankrolls!)
I'm living to count up the money (bankrolls!)
I'm living to count up the money
I start count' the muhfuckin' money
I slow count the muhfuckin' money
[Verse 2]
Tote the champagne
Pour up Bailey (pour it up, pour it up!)
Pour out the lean
They tell me I should've dropped
I'm fucking a percocet fiend
She grown, let her pussy be clean
I'm riding with the stick on me
And I gotta hunnid in a magazine
Got some pounds of the bumbaclat weed
And nothing! Nothing!
Brought the scales on the low
Got some bail on the low
Got some head from ya hoe (got some head from ya hoe?)
Nigga bitch in the ass, kick a nigga in the ass with a Margelia toe
In Cali I OG I blunt it
I really just fucked up some money
[Hook]
420, smoke out the pound
Bitches and money, bitches and drugs, enough to go round
Bitches and drugs!
Bitches and money and money and choppas and choppa rounds
Bitches and drugs!
Bitches and dope raw jeans they should've cropped the town
I'm living to count up the money
I'm living to count up the money
I'm thumbing and thumbing the hunnids (racks!)
I start count' the muhfuckin' money (racks!)
I love count' the muhfuckin' money (bankrolls!)
I'm living to count up the money (bankrolls!)
I'm living to count up the money
I start count' the muhfuckin' money
I slow count the muhfuckin' money
[Outro]
Tote the champagne
Pour up Bailey
Pour out the lean
They tell me I should've dropped
I'm fucking a percocet fiend
She grown, let her pussy be clean
I'm riding with the stick on me
And I gotta hunnid in a magazine
Hol' up, hol' up, God!
Lyrics taken from
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