Next Check Lyrics - Cris Streetz

[Chorus: Rob Markman] 

Next check gonna be for a million 

I don't know how I know, I just feel it 

Palms itching, intuition 

Multiple this money we don't understand division 

Fuck it up, get it back and fuck it up 

Fuck it up, get it back, fuck it up 

Next check gonna be for a million 

I don't know how I know, I just feel it 

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[Verse 1: Rob Markman] 

I got sins I ain't pay for yet 

Copped the Jesus piece just to cover the debt 

I must admit last summer was lit 

Now I walk up in this bitch like it's money to get 

Toast to the life that we choses 

Took losses, came up like roses 

Tryna paint a picture only got two poses 

The Pablo cut, with a part like Moses 

Walk with my team in a sea full of posers 

Offset the flow, my Migos for the culture 

Dropped Write To Dream now the dream getting closer 

Nightmares of devils drinkin' lean with the vutures 

Awakened by cold sweats 

Dapper Dan Gucci paid in full with no debt 

Got mine before rap, facts, no flex 

Tryna cop the crib before I cop the Rolex 

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[Chorus: Rob Markman] 

Next check gonna be for a million 

I don't know how I know, I just feel it 

Palms itching, intuition 

Multiple this money we don't understand division 

Fuck it up, get it back and fuck it up 

Fuck it up, get it back, fuck it up 

Next check gonna be for a million 

I don't know how I know, I just feel it 

[Verse 2: Styles P] 

We could talk about the next check 

My signature's on it, meaning I accept 

And deposit it 

It look nice, but I still keep it moderate 

Need a lick to follow it 

Next check I'ma fuck it up 

Get it back, fuck it up again 

Got work, then cut it up 

No dairy, but I'm buttered up 

Gotta leather that Mayweather would rock just to stunt on us 

Next check is to the rap niggas 

If I'm in the back, you ain't got to worry cause I lap niggas 

Or I'm standin' there to whack niggas 

Make 'em turn around, 'fore I burn 'em down wit the strap nigga 

Next check is to myself 

Gotta check up on ya health 

Gotta check up on ya wealth 

Got checks up on ya feet 

Another check up in the belt 

I'm a real chess player, make the checkerboard melt 

Ghost, nigga 

[Chorus: Rob Markman] 

Next check gonna be for a million 

I don't know how I know, I just feel it 

Palms itching, intuition 

Multiple this money we don't understand division 

Fuck it up, get it back and fuck it up 

Fuck it up, get it back, fuck it up 

Next check gonna be for a million 

I don't know how I know, I just feel it 

[Verse 3: Cris Streetz] 

I just feel that paper comin', that's my intuition 

Need them Steph Curry numbers, leave them in their feelings 

Bars golden, mouth on diamonds when I smile they glisten 

Warrior mentality, we kill all opposition 

They lookin' salty while we padding the stats 

The Bronx boy they said that couldn't got 'em watchin' their backs 

I'm in these meetings, feet up, like add more zeros to that 

These boys thirsty for a deal they signed for less than a pack 

These Don C's on my feet ain't cheap, matter of fact 

Check the team, Noc beats ain't cheap 

Must be the Bow Wow Challenge, what trap y'all seen 

Everybody talk G but I've seen men bleed 

It's all irrelevant 

Fuck Trump, only rockin' with dead presidents 

Fuck up some paper, cop some more the only medicine 

Simple math, more you cop, lower that the numbers get 

Waitin' for that million dollar check so I could blow the shit 

[Chorus: Rob Markman] 

Next check gonna be for a million 

I don't know how I know, I just feel it 

Palms itching, intuition 

Multiple this money we don't understand division 

Fuck it up, get it back and fuck it up 

Fuck it up, get it back, fuck it up 

Next check gonna be for a million 

I don't know how I know, I just feel it