Big Money Lyrics - Asap Ferg

Big Money 

Don Cannon 

Talkin' big money, boy it come in thousands 

Trap house bunkin', Jay runnin' out it 

Rich Homie baby! 

Big money, boy it come in thousands 

Trap house bunkin', Jay runnin' out it 

Twelve saw me comin', couple bats for me 

I supply my neighbor, cul-de-sac money 

(Whatchu talkn bout Quan?) 

Cul-de-sac money 

Make so much that twelve double back for me 

All I stack are dead men run it back for me 

Like a dead end, cul-de-sac money. 

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Cul-de-sac money, I got nosey neighbors 

A couple packs comin', I'm at the store waitin' 

Kill the fat onion, got some more paper 

I keep the strap gunnin', I'm makin' dope wages 

Your folks hatin', I got more paper 

Your clothes basic, you see my ho tailored 

All that makeup make your ho look made up 

Cul-de-sac shoe strings got the hood laced up 

I'm at the corner shootin' like a Pacer 

"Reggie Miller I shoot a nigga face up" 

And I like getting head cause I'm aimin' waist up 

And if you owe me, better pay up 

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Big money, boy it come in thousands 

Trap house bunkin', Jay runnin' out it 

Twelve saw me comin', couple bats for me 

I supply my neighbor, cul-de-sac money 

(Whatchu talkn bout Quan?) 

Cul-de-sac money 

Make so much that twelve double back for me 

All I stack are dead men run it back for me 

Like a dead end, cul-de-sac money. 

I'm gettin' all this paper, A$AP money 

And I'm fuckin' all these bitches, I can't get 'em off me 

And I call my dollars Precious cause my pockets chubby 

They was callin me ugly, now all of these bitches they wanna just fuck me 

All of my niggas they hustlin' and killin the game, this shit is a shame 

I don't mind niggas from Harlem, I did it, and you can do the same 

I took money from out the hood he good now he dont have to gangbang 

All of my niggas who figured they're bigger but left 

Are left feeling the pain (No Love) 

He was a rider, ridin' in that Porsche 

I'm the Messiah, I'll be the young Trap Lord 

Sippin' on the Henney, tryna get a penny, wigglin' a dime, nigga I take off 

Pretty Flacko did well, now watch how Ferg go off, oh Lord 

Big money, boy it come in thousands 

Trap house bunkin', Jay runnin' out it 

Twelve saw me comin', couple bats for me 

I supply my neighbor, cul-de-sac money 

(Whatchu talkn bout Quan?) 

Cul-de-sac money 

Make so much that twelve double back for me 

All I stack are dead men run it back for me 

Like a dead end, cul-de-sac money.