Mula - Capo Lee, P Money

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Capo

Some Unlocked shit, man

I swear

Running to the mula

I’ll be running to the guap

I’ll be running to the money

Hey, yeah, yeah

Nothing ain’t changed, see me grinding in the flats

Dreams of a millionaire breaking down a pack

Shots from the front had him running out the back

Hit him with the pow, pow, execute a rat

I’ll be running to that mula, running to that mula

I’ll be running to that mula, running to that mula

I’ll be running to that mula, running to that mula

I’ll be running to that mula, running to that mula

I’ll be running, running

Yeah, trap boy in the game, that’s me

Same place where I grind like

Money in my hand everyday

Scrunch it up and I’m making a wish

I touch down and I’m raising hell

I took the path and didn’t look back

That’s hard work but he didn’t want none

I make the grind look fun

No trim, I’ve got a trapping 'fro

You don’t know about a trapping flow

Too many fed, man trap and go

I’ve got a show, then I’m back involved

No food, man are acting loads

I come through with an active load

No breaks when I’m chasing goals

I need money right now, that’s facts

You’ve got plans?

More dough?

Let’s get it

It’s not that, saw your text and read it

All the young boys holding tools

You can’t make that call if you ain’t got credit

I know about trap and scales

I don’t know about 419

Active bails

Black gloves on, bruk man down

Cuh life’s kind of mad

Gotta know where you’re rolling

Gotta know who you’re speaking to

Gotta know who you’re phoning

I saw music money last year

Believe me that I’m grateful

I keep to myself more time

Cuh bare MCs are too hateful

Nothing ain’t changed, see me grinding in the flats

Dreams of a millionaire breaking down a pack

Shots from the front had him running out the back

Hit him with the pow, pow, execute a rat

I’ll be running to that mula, running to that mula

I’ll be running to that mula, running to that mula

I’ll be running to that mula, running to that mula

I’ll be running to that mula, running to that mula

I’ll be running, running

I was gang before it was cool to say gang, let me tell you about man

Seventeen years old, came up with a plan

Serve man food knowing it’s bland

On the way home, laughing at man

He said he’ll remember man

Oi, fuck your memory, fam

I’ve got a MAC with serious ram

Push big whips like pram

Now chicks wanna link and hang

'Cause her friend told her how low it hangs

Got dick that will touch her glands

Told me she had a man (so?)

Used to make money in a ban (do)

Now I make money like bands (dough)

Leave banks with money in bands (whoa)

Never did pots and pans

But I still got dirty hands

Used to set up the lights and fans

Now I’ve got my name in lights and fans

About «let's do a tune, fam»

Stop that, what’d you mean, fam?

Got adlibs, now you think you’re gang

(What?) Brap, top lip panned

Still turn up with gang

Still turn up when you jam

One badman born in April

Another badman born in Jan

Go ahead, call your main man

Man don’t care if he’s wham

I ain’t getting out the car, are you mad?

Nothing ain’t changed, see me grinding in the flats

Dreams of a millionaire breaking down a pack

Shots from the front had him running out the back

Hit him with the pow, pow, execute a rat

I’ll be running to that mula, running to that mula

I’ll be running to that mula, running to that mula

I’ll be running to that mula, running to that mula

I’ll be running to that mula, running to that mula

I’ll be running, running