[Hook: Grand Ricky] (X2)
Money Rulers up in this bitch
GK up in this bitch
Ric Flair up in this bitch
Malachi up in this bitch
Kimo up in this bitch
We gettin' faded up in this bitch
You in the club and you gettin' money
Turn up when you hear this shit
[Verse 1: Kimo]
UPFM my niggas
If you don't know, get to know
Cuz you niggas ain't ready for this shit
Ah just stop it, I’m hot as the fucking tropics
When I roll I rock it, there’s a show I stop it
You mad cos your album flopping
This album gonna be popping
You niggas know it’s dropping…well, what you mean change the topics?
Call it a cruel summer
Salty ass niggas cos they did cruel numbers
You fraud fucks is Poppoff
Call this the college dropout
We blew up, you cop out
You shop in, we shop out-side of the floor
Fit is looking couture
Unreleased of course
I’m a beast of course
Fuck a piece of course
I need at least a course
I’mma need a fucking leash to keep bitch niggas away
And at bay…For sure
Hah, maybe I should just let the beat ride
Marble floors and my feet slide
Take yours and I’ll keep mine
All cake as I eat pie
Press play and then rewind
Hahahaha
Now ain't that fucking special
They say trust in your God man, but ain't that fucking level
Killing niggas I revel, surprise and you meet the devil
White girl, she a right girl
Coffee coloured kids, keep the Hoff in all my shit
Cos my bitches Baywatch, and yes you niggas may watch
Oh lord, it’s the new gen
You need new raps, get a new pen
Fuck Billboard we off the charts
Your lungs fill but ain't got the heart
Old niggas broke, this the new school. Money Rules
[Hook] (X2)
[Verse 2: Grand Kaiser]
GK, in the club
Model bitch, feel her up
My chain glows, fill my cup
Money Ruler, get it understood
Hoes call me over-zealous, you gettin' money don't ever tell us
Chocolate bitch, taste like Nutella
Smoke so much that Lost gets jealous, boy
You better fall back, I'm all that
You workin' out, my pockets fat
Bill Gates can't compete with that, phony haters get none of that
I'm all in, I'm bossin', from Boston
Crimes don't get called in, and I ball just like Spalding
UPFM, we rule that money
Girl come here, why you actin' funny?
All these other dudes is straight up dummies
Come home with me, I'mma make you my honey
Fuck a bitch, then I kick her out
Dollar signs, what we about
Punchlines, got a sweet amount
Them raps are sick, I bleed 'em out
Quittin? Fuck that, stay winnin' no Pippen, all that
Get money all day, on the right track
Collab with me, you on the right track
Sniffy that molly off a girl tits
Yeah, I'm winnin', check the gold on my wrists
Girls see me walk in, they cannot resist
Real player shit, I cater this, wassup
You know the shit I rock so rare
Fur in the summer, like a bear
You a fruity little bitch, like a pear
If you broke and you dissin', that ain't ever fair
Real shit
Leather skinnies, jesus piece
Black skully, crewneck tee
It's simple homie, you ain't livin'
GK gettin' bands? That's a given
Come at me, we loadin' clips in
Real pimp shit, you straight simpin'
This the money love song, play this when you get rich, son
