"Publishing" lyrics
(Mano)
Worried 'bout my royalties and publishing
My cover arts and selling seats
I'm not havin' no time for fuckin' freaks
Curtains up 'cause it been showtime for fuckin' weeks
I need a slut that I know mine to fuck her deep
Ayy, uh, just like Money Mitch whenever I touch the streets
Clock punchin'-ass, pumpin' gas underneath
Glock punch your ass and put your ass underneath
You ain't got my number, you can't call me, you can't fuckin' reach
Where your reach go?
Graow, baow through the peephole
Know that it's a fire 'cause you seen smoke
Don't know what shoes I'ma wear with this Celine coat
You ain't know?
Ballin' for so long like, motherfucker, I should've been pro
I don't like niggas, this shit Jim Crow, I sip slow
She should not talk back to a pimp, though, she didn't know
He a cop car, Winslow, he don't let his friends glo
Gen5, not Gen4, not C5, it's C4
Worried 'bout my royalties and publishing
My cover arts and selling seats
I'm not havin' no time for fuckin' freaks
Curtains up 'cause it been showtime for fuckin' weeks
I need a slut that I know mine to fuck her deep
I just need a slut that I know mines, tell her she so fine
Ain't seen him, he got blowed down close to the goal line
And my country cousin grow pine, that shit a goldmine
She was goin' way too fast, told her to slow down
Buttons in the car, I don't know what they do
Put this on my ma, if you run up, I'ma shoot
I'ma set this bitch on fire whenever I step in this booth
Record in front of everybody, they shut up when I do
Seen that money rain, I was Ace inside the cleaners first
You can dream, still gotta do the work
Bitch say I'm a flirt
But these bitches say I'm mean as fuck, clean as fuck
Got my car from Scottie, told him beam me up, 4
Worried 'bout my royalties and publishing
My cover arts and selling seats
I'm not havin' no time for fuckin' freaks
Curtains up 'cause it been showtime for fuckin' weeks
I need a slut that I know mine to fuck her deep
Worried 'bout my royalties and publishing
My cover arts and selling seats
I'm not havin' no time for fuckin' freaks
Curtains up 'cause it been showtime for fuckin' weeks
I need a slut that I know mine to fuck her deep
Worried 'bout my royalties and publishing
My cover arts and selling seats
I'm not havin' no time for fuckin' freaks
Curtains up 'cause it been showtime for fuckin' weeks
I need a slut that I know mine to fuck her deep
Ayy, uh, just like Money Mitch whenever I touch the streets
Clock punchin'-ass, pumpin' gas underneath
Glock punch your ass and put your ass underneath
You ain't got my number, you can't call me, you can't fuckin' reach
Where your reach go?
Graow, baow through the peephole
Know that it's a fire 'cause you seen smoke
Don't know what shoes I'ma wear with this Celine coat
You ain't know?
Ballin' for so long like, motherfucker, I should've been pro
I don't like niggas, this shit Jim Crow, I sip slow
She should not talk back to a pimp, though, she didn't know
He a cop car, Winslow, he don't let his friends glo
Gen5, not Gen4, not C5, it's C4
Worried 'bout my royalties and publishing
My cover arts and selling seats
I'm not havin' no time for fuckin' freaks
Curtains up 'cause it been showtime for fuckin' weeks
I need a slut that I know mine to fuck her deep
I just need a slut that I know mines, tell her she so fine
Ain't seen him, he got blowed down close to the goal line
And my country cousin grow pine, that shit a goldmine
She was goin' way too fast, told her to slow down
Buttons in the car, I don't know what they do
Put this on my ma, if you run up, I'ma shoot
I'ma set this bitch on fire whenever I step in this booth
Record in front of everybody, they shut up when I do
Seen that money rain, I was Ace inside the cleaners first
You can dream, still gotta do the work
Bitch say I'm a flirt
But these bitches say I'm mean as fuck, clean as fuck
Got my car from Scottie, told him beam me up, 4
Worried 'bout my royalties and publishing
My cover arts and selling seats
I'm not havin' no time for fuckin' freaks
Curtains up 'cause it been showtime for fuckin' weeks
I need a slut that I know mine to fuck her deep
Worried 'bout my royalties and publishing
My cover arts and selling seats
I'm not havin' no time for fuckin' freaks
Curtains up 'cause it been showtime for fuckin' weeks
I need a slut that I know mine to fuck her deep
Writer(s): Justin Trayle Bell
