Too Much lyrics

[Chorus]
I got too much money I got too much
I got hella choppers, I got way too many shooters
One phone call have them young n*ggas pull up
Standing over the stove while my young n*ggas cook up
[?] ain't got no guap, up this knot, take his spot
I step out in Saint Laurent
I step out I take the chopper
Pull up in that drop then I pull off getting top
b*tch I'm hot
b*tch you're not

[Verse 1]
b*tch you're not, you can't have my spot
Told you I was hot, but not hot as my Glock
n*ggas mad I got rich that's why I got chopsticks
Wonder why the opps diss, cause they n*ggas got fit
All that sneak dissing, they hitting all of my mentions
No I can't pay them no mind they can't afford attention
He broke he can't afford attention he can't afford these b*tches
Why you keep hanging around them n*ggas?
You know them boys are snitching
You know them boys is b*tches
They don't be toting extensions
Hop in a 'Rari and I whip it
Slide in your car and I flip it
Hop in 'Rari, hop in a ghost
Run up on me and get turned to a ghost
I be that youngin from nose
Pulling up to his shows with all these shooters and poles
[Chorus]
I got too much money I got too much
I got hella choppers, I got way too many shooters
One phone call have them young n*ggas pull up
Standing over the stove while my young n*ggas cook up
[?] ain't got no guap, up this knot, take his spot
I step out in Saint Laurent
I step out I take the chopper
Pull up in that drop then I pull off getting top
b*tch I'm hot
b*tch you're not

[Verse 2]
[?] that Tommy cause I'm hot
Foreign in the parking lot
You think you gone take my guap?
[?] blood on my Saint Laurent's
Watch me pull up on his block
That's when all that faking stop
I just robbed him for his knot
I ran off like thanks a lot
No he ain't getting back
All of these n*ggas is wack
They be talking bout this and that, but they ain't talking bout racks
Hold on
Run up in his trap, through the front and back
He don;t give it up hit him with the Mac
Free my young n*gga [?] with the Mac
Fourteen years he'll be right back
Drip, sauce, splash they don't like that
You punch me, bullets fight back
Know you want go to your hood and light that
I heard nobody got hit, come right back
I told you n*ggas we don't give not one f*ck
Pull up on you we a shoot you the f*ck up
Dare a lil n*gga touch us
Dare a n*gga say f*ck us
[Chorus]
I got too much money I got too much
I got hella choppers, I got way too many shooters
One phone call have them young n*ggas pull up
Standing over the stove while my young n*ggas cook up
[?] ain't got no guap, up this knot, take his spot
I step out in Saint Laurent
I step out I take the chopper
Pull up in that drop then I pull off getting top
b*tch I'm hot
b*tch you're not