Letra de M.O.B. - Concrete Boys

(Feat. Lil Yachty)

Money over—, money over—

Money over bitches, that's the—

Money over— (It's us)

Money over bitches, that's the motto, what I said (Yeah)

Lately, I been stepping' on they motherfuckin' heads

I'm with KARRAHBOOO and she forgot to take her meds

My new bitch ride me, like some BMX pads (Okay)

Uh, we don't fuck around with the feds

Lookin' around, some niggas been holdin' me down since the start, yeah

Givin' the blick to partners, sleepin' up out of the Rick

Beatin' 'em off, I'll never switch on my side-bitch

Ho' just said so I could left me on a high pitch

Then ran through twenty-five million and I'mma die rich

I got caught up in dirt, I had to switch my line quick

I hade a shy bitch, fuck me like you high, bitch

Fuck me like you feel bad, my niggas died, bitch

Fuck me like you feel bad, my niggas locked down

Gotta know, I'm tryna fuck you if you we eatin' out

She tied me up while sittin' down, I'm bustin' all on her gown

Dope boy like Jeezy, hand on that cup, movin' 'round like a

Ouija

I got two million put up, just like Peezy

Add another six, I'mma spend it, 'cause it's easy

New Maybach, inside look like Dreezy

Pretty lil' bitch, I put her picture on her Wheatie's

Huh, huh, huh, huh

Oh my God, what happened to you, my baby?

Life ain't work out for that boy, join the Navy

All of my bitches are unstable

She want a chain, then she gotta fuck my label

He bein' nosy, we gon' rearrange his nasal

Them boys be hatin' on each other, Cain and Abel

I pull out a twenty-ounce with some maple

I put C's in her top like a—

Blurry vision, almost hope that Jesus grab the wheel

With my shiesty at my chest, like a young O'Neill

Bigger eater, all the tickets for you at the wheel

I will call any nigga out, I never film

Almost fucked up the motor, I can not drive stick

But second' to a snitch, a nigga who switched cliques

I'm quick to flood my wrist, I'm quick to switch my bitch

I'm quick to catch my nut, I'm quick to make a bitch pissy

All the shit they got against me, ain't really do them no good

I pop the Rolls in the hood, I put the bitch up on the Curb

I cut a bitch head and treat her like Durk, I'm pissin' these rap nigga nerves

I'm runnin' around, steppin' in my all white fazos, like I'm Herb

I blame to come at fifty, I damn near spent it on my bitch

One-point-one, I spent on my teeth, that's college shit, legit

Money over—, money over—

Money over—, money over—

Money over bitches, that's the motto, what I said (Yeah)

Lately, I been steppin' on they motherfuckin' heads

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