French Montana and T.I. - Stop It

I got some money to spend, ay ay
I got some money to spend
I got some money to spend
I got some money to spend
I got some money to spend

Man got the habit, money poking out the bag
I might hop out on it now, for my city brought it back
Bad bitches bust it down, always automatic
Got the drink, got the pounds
Why ya playin' with a bad bitch, though?
Stop it, stop it, stop it, stop it
Time to stop it, stop it, stop it, stop it

I got purp by the liter
I got pounds in the duffel
I got cash in the freezer
We don't clash in the huddle
With my dough high smoke dope
Lean, work, bust it open
Hit the block
Then I hit the jeweler, wrist bust it open
Tip, tip, tip, tip
Tip, tip, tip, tip
Got the models, got the bottles
Tip, tip, tip, tip
Bad bitches, marble floors
Tip, tip, tip, tip
Magic City, calm down
Hit Atlanta, me and TIP
Bust it open with her freaky ass
She wanna hear me (tip, tip, tip, tip)
And all my diamonds VVS she bust it open in the Phantom

Man got the habit, money poking out the bag
I might hop out on it now, for my city brought it back
Bad bitches bust it down, always automatic
Got the drink, got the pounds
Why ya playin' with a bad bitch, though?
Stop it, stop it, stop it, stop it
Time to stop it, stop it, stop it, stop it

Tip, tip, tip, tip
Tip, tip, tip, tip
Got the models, got the bottles
Tip, tip, tip, tip
Bad bitches, marble floors
Tip, tip, tip, tip
Magic City, calm down
Hit Atlanta, me and TIP

New cheese, revenue
I got big stacks set on Avenue
And any sucker violate me, I'ma hate to do it
But I still get him whacked for a band or two
Hey nigga really though?
I ain't back and forth with you, we ain't on a tennis court
a nigga talk then, well you sell now, how the business though?
What a let down
A nigga warning, danger, get what they came for
Shooter totin' them flamethrower
Known to hit what they aim for
Cocaine Lord, marijuana don
You watchin' mine, here's a 101
Got a hundred stacks of a hundred ones
Plus a hundred hundreds, rack the stacks and stacks on one another
I keep grillin' Hummer, for a hundred bands
I seen families turn they backs on one another
Sister shoot her brother, mother kill her daughter, man this shit is awful, huh

Man got the habit, money poking out the bag
I might hop out on it now, for my city brought it back
Bad bitches bust it down, always automatic
Got the drink, got the pounds
Why ya playin' with a bad bitch, though?
Stop it, stop it, stop it, stop it
Time to stop it, stop it, stop it, stop it
Stop it, stop it, stop it, stop it
Time to stop it, stop it, stop it, stop it

Tip, tip, tip, tip
Tip, tip, tip, tip
Got the models, got the bottles
Tip, tip, tip, tip
Bad bitches, marble floors
Tip, tip, tip, tip
Magic City, calm down
Hit Atlanta, me and TIP

Written by:
Karim Kharbouch, Clifford Harris, Diego Avenado, Scott Storch

Publisher:
Lyrics © CONCORD MUSIC PUBLISHING LLC, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.

Lyrics powered by Lyric Find

French Montana and T.I.

View Profile
Jungle Rules Jungle Rules