We get that money boy Right up out the streets Out the streets To my young boy I'm a o.g.
Tens and twentys Flying off the block This tier looking So good dog you thought It was some rock Girlies all up on my jock Pinky ring on looking like my pop Ones in the middle with the Hundreds sitting on the top Fiends on time you thought they Working on a clock But I ain't playing girl You better put it in my pock (2X) Even if you aint my girl Break yourself and Give me what you got
(Chorus)
To my young boy imam o.g C.o.d. Cash on delivery I don't sell crack And you know I don't sell weed I sell swag that dopey You get indicted by them dt's Or end up like what they did to big meech And I aint trina be like that kid be I'm just trine c.p
