Moneybagg Yo – Blac Money (feat. Blac Youngsta) Lyrics

Blac Money

Moneybagg Yo (feat. Blac Youngsta)

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"Blac Money." - Moneybagg Yo (feat. Blac Youngsta)

Monday, 19 October 2026, 06:53 pm

Album: 43VA HEARTLESS

Track No: 11

(DrumGod)
Boy, boy, you better bag it
Runnin' 'round town, you ain't livin' what you rappin'
I don't do stick-shift, semi-automatic
Pull down, broad-day, shoot 'em in the attic
Fuckin' on his baby momma, 'cause that **** ratted
He don't like when his little kids call me "Daddy"
Pounds of that Kush, got it hid in the attic
Big Draco, got it sittin' on the cabinet
Bust down Rollie, but I still got a Patek
Couldn't afford a bed, so I slept on a padded
Heard what he said, when I see him, I'ma slap him
I ain't give a statement, boy, I slid in the Caddy
She know I ain't shit, but she still wanna marry
Spit on that dick before I stick in her catty
I'm at Ruth's Chris throw chicken in the salad
Real street ****, I can feel when there's static
Got a lotta status, Capo, I can make it happen
Joes in the hood, they like "How you make it rappin'?"
I just bought some choppers, gettin' ready for the static
Bad bitch with me, but today she lookin' ratchet
She just popped a Xanny, take advantage, make her vanish
She like "Boy, you nasty", yeah, I'm nasty, y'all mannish
I just read her text, "Where you at? No panties"
The roof panoramic, skrrt skrrt, I just vanished
Water runnin', time is money, I'ma talk
I'm on a porch in his hood gettin' chop now
All you do is get the head and watch the body drop
FN, extend, knock him out his socks
I took his bitch, gave her back, guess he mad about that
(I don't know but, guess what)
Since he wanna be me, I'ma tell her say my name next time they havin' sex
He curve her
I can't see no ****, I'm up in the air
(I'm up in the air, word)
It ain't fair
You can't find none the shit this **** wear
I'm too rare, forever heartless, too rich to care
(I don't really give a fuck)
I'm the voice, so they listen, got 'em pullin' up a chair
My dick that hoe was kissin' while I'm pullin' on her hair
Boy, boy, you better bag it
Word around town, you ain't livin' what you rappin'
I don't do stick-shift, semi-automatic
Pull down, broad-day, shoot 'em in the attic
Fuckin' on his baby momma, 'cause that **** ratted
He don't like when his little kids call me "Daddy"
Pounds of that Kush, got it hid in the attic
Big Draco, got it sittin' on the cabinet
Bust down Rollie, but I still got a Patek
Couldn't afford a bed, so I slept on a padded
Heard what he said, when I see him, I'ma slap him
I ain't give a statement, boy, I slid in the Caddy
She know I ain't shit, but she still wanna marry
Spit on that dick before I stick in her catty
I'm at Ruth's Chris throw chicken in the salad
Real street ****, I can feel when there's static
Ice on my neck cold like a 'frigerator
Heavy kinda steel, run 'em like a generator
I don't fuck with your boyfriend, he been a hater
Only time my **** talk is at dinner tables
I'm in the projects, right where they steal the cable
It took a process for me to get some paper
I caught a body, you owe me a favor
My lawyer squashed that, and then we celebrated
You know I'm a boss now, you know you lost now
You wanna book a show, you know what it costs now
You wanna wire it to me, I'm in the boat now
I'm with my ex-bitch, who you gon' cross now?
I got **** in the penitentiary, they locked down
Young **** lookin' up to me I'm Pac now
Back then I was low on guns, I'm stocked now
Lately hours sellin' dope, I'm finna stop now
Boy, boy, you better bag it
Word around town, you ain't livin' what you rappin'
I don't do stick-shift, semi-automatic
Pull down, broad-day, shoot 'em in the attic
Fuckin' on his baby momma, 'cause that **** ratted
He don't like when his little kids call me "Daddy"
Pounds of that Kush, got it hid in the attic
Big Draco, got it sittin' on the cabinet
Bust down Rollie, but I still got a Patek
Couldn't afford a bed, so I slept on a padded
Heard what he said, when I see him, I'ma slap him
I ain't give a statement, boy, I slid in the Caddy
She know I ain't shit, but she still wanna marry
Spit on that dick before I stick in her catty
I'm at Ruth's Chris throw chicken in the salad
Real street ****, I can feel when there's static (Hey, gang gang)

Writer(s): Demario White, Samuel Benson, Dyllan McKinney & Robert Gullatt.

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