Money Clip lyrics

by

Mac Miller


[Verse 1: Chuck Inglish]
San Diego, Dago, get what you pay for
It's not everyday though, they do what we say so
Uh, def that bump
It's not a drop, it's convertible bruh
Put a rack up on it if you ain't no punk
Do it up like the steps, walk it out like a pet
Off the top, get a tip like 75 percent
This establishment was meant, washin' money with the lint
Register [?] it up like Lykke
And I look like I'm meant to dress better than you n*ggas
Rhyme like I know I'm way nicer than you, n*gga
I was just makin' beats, back to fightin' on you n*ggas
Horsepower, still ride rims on pick-ups
Sip cup Sprite, don't shake, just mix up
Pour it up right, it'll be a slow night
If you had a little cough, this'll knock us out the park
Softball slow pitch, knock it out to tomorrow
And I wrote a couple bars you can hang up on the wall
This is all
Name a price, then it's bought
[?] with his car, gettin' money for a dog

[Chorus: Chuck Inglish]
It's not a drop, this a money clip
You gotta rock, to make the honeys dip
It don't stop, it don't stop
Gettin' rocked, it don't stop
It's not a drop, this a money clip
You gotta rock, to make the honeys dip
It don't stop, it don't stop
Gettin' rocked, it don't stop
[Verse 2: Hassani Kwess]
I got a handful of methods, Nike ups you can't check
If I ever brainstorm, did a rain [?]
I remain high threat with the frame I flex
Every dame I slept, if they came I 'ject
Came my best and obtain my quest
And I came winnin', fact still remains, I'm next
What you grippin'? OE! What you sippin'? OE!
Spittin' fluid OP 'till you n*ggas OD
On the slick rap sh*t, let me slick that
I got Rollies with the gold and the knickknacks
Crack from my knees to my six pack
Let me hit that puss, where your b*tch at?
With a pipe like 500 nick sacks
Plus I spit fat raps with a click clack
Get back, GLAHH GLAHH, let me hold that cake
Let me hold that weight and it close that safe
Scram, blam, clam, ran, damn on polices
Grand handstands couldn't slam on my thesis
Congo bands can't jam when they beat us
Clean pair of heaters, threw dirt on the neatest
Say Chuck, I told n*ggas kick the bass
Where you get that sh*t? Let me hit that
Let me slit that sh*t in the six pack
Let me mix that sh*t in the track for the kick back
[Chorus: Chuck Inglish]
It's not a drop, this a money clip
You gotta rock, to make the honeys dip
It don't stop, it don't stop
Gettin' rocked, it don't stop
It's not a drop, this a money clip
You gotta rock, to make the honeys dip
It don't stop, it don't stop
Gettin' rocked, it don't stop

[Verse 3: Retch]
I'm on my Tommy Vercetti
Ridin in an Infernus or maybe I’m in a Cheetah
Call up candy, is you ready?
Finna check Lancey, told me he got some fetti
Hit Sonny Forelli on the celly
Diaz was my mans but he got a little jelly
So I ran him for his crib, no more nights in the telly
Even though my sh*t was on the beach, b*tches ride past
Rollerblades on their feet, he wasn't trying to let me eat
And that dude from Star Island kinda sweet
So Diaz, yeah he disappeared
Ask Ken Rosenberg, n*gga I wasn't there
I was in the pole position gettin' dances in the chair
Doin' pumps like it's all good and dandy
Still gettin' gobbled up by Candy in the Banshee
'Member when Ricky sent his mans to come and plant me
Hit Phil Cassidy, I [?] slam me
You want a problem? You know it's nada
Slice a n*gga throat with a katana
Front his momma, or his father
Then hit up Little Haiti and get some ganja
Real player like
[Verse 4: Sulaiman]
Steady makin' advances, so f*ck your man, b*tch
I'll make his face kiss Stan Smiths
Banned kicks, Man in the land of the hand to hand switch
My n*ggas holdin' the Addy's when they out of Xan's
It's back to the old sh*t
Pat Quinn got my n*ggas trading in their old tools
I was eatin' waveforms, sh*ttin' on the Pro Tools
Hopeful my vocals, make a n*gga strong like Goku
Blow god smoke, make an archangel choke
I don't travel, I smuggle DEA, say I'm dope
And don't let Drake take a quote when I'm dead
For a record I'll haunt that n*gga in a second

[Verse 5: Vic Mensa]
Curse to the brand, truth to the fame
'68 Camaro, I'm ridin' it in the rain
Shorty say she seen me on TV, it ain't a thing
Chuck on his old school, I'm feelin' like Dana Dane
Or like Big Daddy Kane with a gold chain
Got a quarter P for a stain, and flipped the whole thing
n*gga hit me up on the jack, told me sh*t's game
Now I'm by the lake on the cellular while I get brain
I'm a citizen, my truck when I switch lanes
Shorty starts screamin', I told the b*tch chill, damn
Can't you see I'm leanin' and that purple in my brain?
Give me aerosmith dreamin, I'm feelin' like Willie Beamen
On a Sunday night, flight Monday
Still in the air in the airplane, hit the runway
Smokin' on that picante, sh*t be the cross country
Dub sack in one day, OJ and the Bombay
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