Lyrics to Stinky Money
Man, this menu's fuckin' weird
Yo, what the fuck is "beans on toast"?
Wait - hold up, hold up-
Good evening, gentleman
What will you be having this evening?
Uh, you got no fries here?
Um, no, we do not have any fries I'm so sorry
Alright, I'll get the, uh, bangers and ass
Ah yes, and for you sir?
Yeah, I'll get the same shit
Ah, perfect, that'll be two orders of bangers and ass
Excellent choice
I got that, rolly
My diamonds, they holy
Your girlfriend, below me
She sucking my baloney
Stinky money, stinky money, stinky money
Man, that shit's smelling funny
I got that, stinky
Ice on my, pinky
[?] on my 'Ghini
I got that tiny weenie
Stinky money, stinky money, stinky money
Man, that shit's smelling funny
Yeah
Pull up with the bag, I don't mean to brag
But I got them racks, smellin' like a rag
Zeroes on the tags, light up, take a drag
Stinky like my cash, that shit make you gag (yah)
All this money laundered (yeah)
But it still smell like death (okay)
I wake up talking cheddar (uh), just call that morning breath (ha)
I stack this paper tall, them smelly, soggy racks, ay
My wallet on the table, she said, "Did you rip ass?"
She two-faced for the blue face, boy you can't trust these hoes (nuh-uh)
You want these bands, baby?
Toucan Sam, bitch follow your nose
I got that, rolly
My diamonds, they holy
Your girlfriend, below me
She sucking my baloney
Stinky money, stinky money, stinky money
Man, that shit's smelling funny
I got that, stinky
Ice on my, pinky
[?] on my 'Ghini
I got that tiny weenie
Stinky money, stinky money, stinky money
And now she's smelling funny
My money stinky as fuck, call that shit Pepe Le Pew
Got a hundred bands in my Louis bag, [?] smell like a got a skunk in the coop
Now I got the feds in my whip
Lookin' for a pack in the glovebox
Coverin' they nose when they open up the duffle
Thinking that the motherfucker got gym socks
My bands be seasoned with stripper shit
That's what I like to call chocolate chips
Your bank account lookin' tore up
I got old bread, make you wanna throw up (uh)
Reach into my ass, pull out cash, you like, "Who the fuck?
That a damn deposit or some ten-year? aged gouda, bitch?"
I got that, rolly
My diamonds, they holy
Your girlfriend, below me
She sucking my baloney
Stinky money, stinky money, stinky money
Man, that shit's smellin' funny
I got that, stinky
Ice on my, pinky
[?] on my 'Ghini
I got that tiny weenie
Stinky money, stinky money, stinky money
Man that shit's smellin' funny
Yo, what the fuck is "beans on toast"?
Wait - hold up, hold up-
Good evening, gentleman
What will you be having this evening?
Uh, you got no fries here?
Um, no, we do not have any fries I'm so sorry
Alright, I'll get the, uh, bangers and ass
Ah yes, and for you sir?
Yeah, I'll get the same shit
Ah, perfect, that'll be two orders of bangers and ass
Excellent choice
I got that, rolly
My diamonds, they holy
Your girlfriend, below me
She sucking my baloney
Stinky money, stinky money, stinky money
Man, that shit's smelling funny
I got that, stinky
Ice on my, pinky
[?] on my 'Ghini
I got that tiny weenie
Stinky money, stinky money, stinky money
Man, that shit's smelling funny
Yeah
Pull up with the bag, I don't mean to brag
But I got them racks, smellin' like a rag
Zeroes on the tags, light up, take a drag
Stinky like my cash, that shit make you gag (yah)
All this money laundered (yeah)
But it still smell like death (okay)
I wake up talking cheddar (uh), just call that morning breath (ha)
I stack this paper tall, them smelly, soggy racks, ay
My wallet on the table, she said, "Did you rip ass?"
She two-faced for the blue face, boy you can't trust these hoes (nuh-uh)
You want these bands, baby?
Toucan Sam, bitch follow your nose
I got that, rolly
My diamonds, they holy
Your girlfriend, below me
She sucking my baloney
Stinky money, stinky money, stinky money
Man, that shit's smelling funny
I got that, stinky
Ice on my, pinky
[?] on my 'Ghini
I got that tiny weenie
Stinky money, stinky money, stinky money
And now she's smelling funny
My money stinky as fuck, call that shit Pepe Le Pew
Got a hundred bands in my Louis bag, [?] smell like a got a skunk in the coop
Now I got the feds in my whip
Lookin' for a pack in the glovebox
Coverin' they nose when they open up the duffle
Thinking that the motherfucker got gym socks
My bands be seasoned with stripper shit
That's what I like to call chocolate chips
Your bank account lookin' tore up
I got old bread, make you wanna throw up (uh)
Reach into my ass, pull out cash, you like, "Who the fuck?
That a damn deposit or some ten-year? aged gouda, bitch?"
I got that, rolly
My diamonds, they holy
Your girlfriend, below me
She sucking my baloney
Stinky money, stinky money, stinky money
Man, that shit's smellin' funny
I got that, stinky
Ice on my, pinky
[?] on my 'Ghini
I got that tiny weenie
Stinky money, stinky money, stinky money
Man that shit's smellin' funny
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