Tom: D# minor
Verse 1
Verse 2
If you ain't 'bout lettin' that choppa go,
I'm so in love with money (Money)
Had to cut some of my kinfolks off,
(Wow)
lookin' like I play on Sundays
You just chick who suck my dick
Miss Lady, you're not the
platonic (No)
I need a friend that keeps
me cumming (No, no)
Touch down in Boston,
Gucci be flossin'
I'm about to ghost on Cold Steve
but you know I lost 'em (Scooch)
Four pipes,
yeah I quadruple exhaust 'em
Outta this world like Marvin
the Martian (Hah)
Fifty a verse and I'm on the charts
"Extortion"
My choppa keep blowin'
shit out of proportion
Shout out these saucin', niggas
are horsin'
Booties and titties,
me horny (Yeah)
Baby these karats, these
are not pointers
Killin' that pussy,
I'm Gucci Kevorkian
Tarkanian (Yeah)
I'm from uranium
Droppin' the top, yeah I'm
"I'm so damn glad you lit"
lookin' aluminum
Why's it dull,
pockets on stuffed (Ooh)
Dressin' like a plug,
Salt me down,
Knocked me down,
but I picked them up (Whoa)
Salt me down, salt me down
Yeah they salt me down,
up, up, up)
Wop
Verse 3
My choppa keep blowin'
My choppa keep blowin'
shit outta proportion
Outta proportion, outta proportion
outta proportion
My choppa keep blowin' shit
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