YG – Scared Money (feat. J. Cole & Mon

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YG – Scared Money (feat. J. Cole & Mon Lyrics

[Verse 1: YG]Why you bring that money to the club if you ain’t throwin’ it?
How you naked on the ‘Gram but in person, you ain’t showin’ shit?
Why you go against the gang? You can’t beat ’em, nigga, join it
Ain’t tap in when you got to Cali, got your ass extorted
Brand new coupe, I floor it, brand new bitch, gotta whore it
Brand new Glock, I adore it, have a nigga runnin’ like Forrest
V.I.P, I’m very important, in the hood, I ain’t never no tourist
Got the drop on the opp, we Dora explore it (Ay)
YG from the streets, YG went legit (Ay)
YG lit, YG start a business with your bitch (Ay)
Fifty bitches flew to Cabo, YG a trip (Ay)
YG think he Kanye West, he got his own kicks
Woah, fresh out a pandemic but I ain’t rusty
Woah, have a baby by me, bitch, come be lucky
Woah, bitch I’ma throw it all, all the strippers love me
Woah, walk in best dressed but I ain’t no Kid Cudi

[Interlude]Girl, did he just say what I think he just said?
Bitch, yes

[Chorus: YG]Talkin’ like you lit, your bitch better not be ugly
Pull up with a ten, her waist slim, ass chubby
Half a milly on my neck, who gon’ take it from me?
Pussy, we ballin’ on you fuckin’ dummies
Scared money don’t make no money (Woah)
Scared money don’t make no money (Woah)
Scared money don’t make no money (Woah)
Pussy, we ballin’ on you fuckin’ dummies
[Verse 2: J. Cole]I’m so lit, SportCenter gotta post my clips
One lay-up and they treat me like I’m Luka Dončić
2-6, nigga, and we used to conflict
Turn these brand new YG sneakers into Louboutin kicks
Red bottoms ’cause the blood bled out ’em, aw damn
If I’m miss ’em, 4Hunnid red dot ’em, aw damn
I was thinkin’ ’bout walkin’ up a stack of crates (Hmm)
But I was busy stackin’ cake, heheh
Cole fuckin’ World, say the whole name
Cole think he Drizzy Drake, he got his own plane
Flew it all around the world and now I’m back, bitch
Three cribs in the same neighborhood, I’m that rich
These niggas pray to God to make it on The Shade Room
Meanwhile I made it on the “Bitch, I’m hella paid” room
Road blocks when Cole drop, they push back they rollouts
That’s right pussy, make room, stay tuned, nigga

[Chorus: YG]Talkin’ like you lit, your bitch better not be ugly
Pull up with a ten, her waist slim, ass chubby
Half a milly on my neck, who gon’ take it from me?
Pussy, we ballin’ on you fuckin’ dummies
Scared money don’t make no money (Woah)
Scared money don’t make no money (Woah)
Scared money don’t make no money (Woah)
Pussy, we ballin’ on you fuckin’ dummies
[Verse 3: Moneybagg Yo]Ball too hard on niggas like Zion when he bust out the shoe
See that lil’ switch on the Glock, you can’t shoot back when we start shootin’
Thuggin’ on the block with YG, set trippin’, my pockets blue (True)
VVVs cost some cheese, reach for these, I blam on you (Bow, bow)
Scared money don’t make no money
I got shows comin’ in but the trap still bunkin’
Wrapped the Lamb’ truck white, but the inside’s pumpkin
Grip her neck when we be hunchin’ and she like when I talk country (Who you is?)
Big speaker, yeah, big shit talker, hoe
Have your cash together, cost a Mike Vick for a truffle boat (Seven)
Dollars, followers and ratchet hoes, I got a lot of those (Where you at?)
Gettin’ me some head, waitin’ on my food to cook at Pappadeaux (Let’s go)
Big Bagg

[Chorus: YG]Talkin’ like you lit, your bitch better not be ugly
Pull up with a ten, her waist slim, ass chubby
Half a milly on my neck, who gon’ take it from me?
Pussy, we ballin’ on you fuckin’ dummies
Scared money don’t make no money (Woah)
Scared money don’t make no money (Woah)
Scared money don’t make no money (Woah)
Pussy, we ballin’ on you fuckin’ dummies