Precise Song Lyrics
Description:- Precise Lyrics Money Man are Provided in this article. This is a new song which is sang by famous Singer Money Man. This song is from Epidemic (Deluxe) album. This Song will release on 21 August 2020.
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Song:– Precise
Singer:– Money Man
Album:– Epidemic (Deluxe)
Producer:– Taylor Michael & Trauma Tone
Written:– Money Man
Precise Lyrics Money Man
[Intro]
(Taylor Michael, yeah, you goin’ crazy)
(Trauma Tone)
Yeah
[Chorus]
She got that body I like
Sent her a ticket, now she on the flight
She hop off the plane, then she come get the pipe
Scammin’, made 50K just in one night
The next day, I spent that shit all on some ice
When I weigh up a turkey bag, it be precise
She wanna motherfuckin’ kick it
Come on, let’s fuck in the kitchen
In the Beverly Center, I’m drippin’
[Verse]
Yeah, yeah, just dropped her off, now she already miss me
I’m never naked, I’m keeping a glizzy
Ballin’ just like the the bubble up at Disney
She throw it back on me just like a Frisbee
She throw it back so good, I bought her Fendi
Her titties perky, she gon’ show her cleavage
Took me some plastic just to swipe in Cleveland
Niggas gon’ hate, they even hate the cheesy
I was just four-fourin’ in some Yeezys
I just copped a Ruger-57, no kizzy, yeah
Fastin’ all night, I’m dizzy, yeah
Bae, I just want your kitty, yeah
I just want motherfuckin’ digits, yeah
Every strain a nigga burnin’ top notch
Lookin’ at the time on the AP bustdown stopwatch
Nigga, I’m the reason why the block hot
I done put the Cash App card in every Pine Hills mailbox
If I get locked up, I’m runnin’ my cell block
I’ma lay the wood down, I’ma make her bed rock
I’ma keep twins with me, two FNs with me
Niggas know I’m stayin’ on point, Spencer Dinwiddie
Sellin’ these bales out a house in Peach Tree City
I just copped a Lamborghini, I ain’t want the 550
Sold a Q, yeah, trap five for the nine-fifty
That is not ‘za on your page, it is not sticky
You ain’t never stick shit, nigga, you are not drillin’
We ain’t worried ’bout a lil’ bankroll, we got millions
We ain’t worried ’bout a lil’ car that you postin’ on the ‘Gram, nigga, we just cashed out on two Lams
Petty-ass nigga tryna show a nigga three grams
Have my shooter comin’ off the bench with a stick like Lou Will, nigga, he the sixth man
[Chorus]
Sent her a ticket, now she on the flight
She hop off the plane, then she come get the pipe
Scammin’, made 50K just in one night
The next day, I spent that shit all on some ice
When I weigh up a turkey bag, it be precise
She wanna motherfuckin’ kick it
Come on, let’s fuck in the kitchen
Video Of Precise Song
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