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200 Bands (feat. Plies & T-Pain)

Bryson Tiller

I know you got plans, plans
I see you makin' 'em, you makin' plans on plans
Yeah, know you can do with no hands
But at least let you give you advances
Spend two hundred bands like this
You ain't never seen fifty bands like this, no, yeah
So let me show you, hands like this
So let me show you, yeah
And put your hands like this

I'm on some other shit, my cup is full of Ace
She got a truck that's full of bass
Yeah, she ain't paint the pretty on, it's stuck up on her face
Yeah, she wanna leave her city and come to where I stay, yeah
She really a freak the way she – on my, ayy, yeah
Jump inside my ride, cut off on the interstate, yeah
Right hand on her, ah, I can't wait to see the cake, yeah
Steppin' out of my whip, you turnin' heads at the valet, yeah
Shit, fuck else can I say? Yeah
My shawty get to the bag, dog, that's somethin' the gang used to
Got her eyes on green, fuck a stream, fuck a Hulu
You fuckin' up her place, dog, she seein' red, no YouTube
Broke nig' can't play it off, he stuck there, he glued (ooh)
I been rich for a decade and shit still feel new (ooh)
I still ain't got on no jet plane, I'm savin' that for you (ooh)
I just got a new check, send a text, where you at? (Ooh)
Two hundred on that, now that's a flex, where you at?

I know you got plans, plans
I see you makin' 'em, you makin' plans on plans (ooh)
Yeah, know you can do with no hands
But at least let you give you advances
Spend two hundred bands like this
You ain't never seen fifty bands like this, no, yeah
So let me show you, hands like this
So let me show you, yeah
And put your hands like this now

Let me put you on some lamb chop shit and off that Popeye
Talkin' 'bout [?] steaks and shit, won't do no Five Guys
I like my bitch hood, know what I'm sayin', with a lil' bougie
Got a lil' theatre in the house, no, I won't go to the movies
We ain't doin' Don Julio, we done stepped that shit up
I put [?] on the [Bim?], we had to wet that shit up
We won't never take luggage, we just shop when we land
When your bag big enough, you ain't gotta make plans
Wake up one mornin', feel like you wanna slide, we go to Turks
Wake up one mornin', you feelin' a lil' saint, we go to church
I remember bein' in public school like used to eat free lunch
Now a nigga wake up every mornin' do what the fuck he want

I know you got plans, plans
I see you makin' 'em, you makin' plans on plans (ooh)
Yeah, know you can do with no hands
But at least let you give you advances
Spend two hundred bands like this
You ain't never seen fifty bands like this, no, yeah (oh)
So let me show you, hands like this
So let me show you, yeah
And put your hands like this now

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