Mom Said We Got Music At Home Songtext

Yuh, yuh, ayy (Ayy, ayy)
Walk inside, how I'm doin' the cha-cha
How much bread you got? No, I got a lotta
And I walk inside the office, look like ya' papa
She said I'm the shit, I'm kinda like caca
I'ma get rich like Kyle, not TaTa
In the kitchen cookin', work like a chef (Work like a chef)
I'm makin' hits, so I can't call my ex (Can't call my ex)
Scoop a nigga in a pot, like it's grits (Like it's grits)
Told that nigga that he done in his grits (Done in his grits)
Gеt my nigga crack shit up like Ritz (Like Ritz)
One, two, three, hit his phonе, we gon' blitz (Phone, we gon' blitz)
Ayy, I think I need me some tris'
Ayy, I think I need me some Wock'
Ayy, BMG know who we are
Spec' going up and I put that on God

Shooter walk into his crib (Uh, yeah)
I think you know what he did (Uh, yeah) You cannot run from the bid (Uh, yeah)
PrizePicks, you cannot run from that shit (Yeah)
Like Tony Montana, I just need a grip
He try to run, he get flipped (Grrah)
Just like Nike, I'm doin' this shit (Shit)
He ain't doin' shit if I'm doin' shit

Yuh, yuh, yuh, okay (Ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy)