Figg Get Da Money - ScHoolboy Q

The flow-- is in the pocket like wallets

I got the bounce like hydraulics

I can’t call it, I got the swerve like alco-fuck that

Figg get da money, shootin dice what they hittin' for?

Hookers out to sell the pussy

Money trade for intercourse

Every corner, liquor store

Laundromat, liquor store, laundromat, liquor store

EBT accept 'em more

Churches 'cross from motels, Lord knows pussy sells

Churches 'cross from motels, Lord knows pussy sells

Domino’s, Pizza Huts, Colt 45 cans, the old heads drunk enough

Dollar after dollar on lottery, that shit be addin' up

Schizos from Vietnam, better yet the drug era that used to be a ball player

See how things evolve later

4 Lokos for the young locos

Niggas cashin' my check for white tees

Don’t fuck with Melrose, just Metros--PCS's

You get the message

Good investments in my direction

Figg get da money, yeah!

Rain, sleet, snow, turn July into December, yeah!

Figg get da money, yeah!

Springtime fall turn summer to a winter, yeah!

Figg get da money, yeah!

Uh, it’s midnight, where the bitches at (Schoolboy)

See a ho, pimp a ho, put her on the track (Schoolboy)

Put her in the gas station, hiding from the white and black (Schoolboy)

They gotta make a living so they put us on our back (Schoolboy)

But why they gotta judge us when we do it back?

(Schoolboy)

Mickey D’s and Burger King still make sure that my daughter fat (Schoolboy)

Close to Christmas on November, best believe I got a jack (Schoolboy)

Been coming to this store for years, the cops come behind me 'bout a snack

But thanks Ms. Han, Jackie Chan, Sake bomb (Schoolboy)

Any Catholic differ-an, Wolverine like Michigan (Schoolboy)

Wolver Street know what it be (Be)

Hanging in front of the laundry mat til 2 or 3 (3)

With like 2 or 3 (3)

Uh, everyone asleep so shall we creep

Money to gain up in them streets

Shall I preach about this beat

Puffy ain’t got shit on me

Better yet this L.A. heat

Figueroa, figg sa money block

Uh, Jehoviah coming let me close the blinds

So I can get high, nigga free my mind

Write my niggas doing hella years past time

Ballers got it crackin', crackin' at the crack of dawn

Ice cream truck stop for my mom but me, he won’t respond

Gotta read between the lines

Best believe I’m off of crime

This must be the longest line, where they cookin' worse than swine

Lying on their letter signs, but hurry cause they close at 9

But Pices got it jumpin' at the taco stand

Rapping on them corners (Aye!), AM, PM like the Taliban

Camping out, your daddy selling money he can understand

Drizzle riding through the hood, Junkies love the avalanche

Homeless person gotta shuffle cans, take 'em up to the recycle bin

Take his bread to the candyman, but still he eat

Tell me if that ain’t hustlin'

Rain, sleet, snow, hell and shit uhhh, Hell!