Released: May 15, 2015
Featuring: Ca$h Out
Songwriter: Soulja Boy Ca$h Out
Producer: Inomek
[Hook: Ca$h Out]
Bring that ass here, girl, drop it
New shoe, new whip, had to cop it
Boy, I came from nothing, turn up
Salute if you getting paper, that’s what’s up
Hey, that’s what’s up
Hey, that’s what’s up
I came from nothing, that’s what’s up
Salute if you getting paper, that’s what’s up
[Verse One: Ca$h Out]
Bitches see me and I swear they be giving high-fives
Still catch me in the ‘hood eating on some Popeye’s
Oh, my my. I smoke loud, you smoking High Times
I swear it’s my time
I ain’t slipping, you know I keep mine
Gas truck load
Drop ‘em off in the hood, boatload
I love the cocoa
Work my wrist in a bowl mojo
Twenty thousand [?]
So many hoes, put ‘em [?]
I really don’t brag
But my nigga told me to laugh
Big bank roll
Watching the Knicks shoot a free throw
Go hard like Rico
Young nigga know the G code
Your life gets repo’d
I fucked her good, and he knows
I get money
Ain’t scared of shit, I’m on goal
[Hook]
[Verse Two: Soulja Boy]
Matte black Maserati
All these hoes notice me
Broke-ass peasant, man
Them bitches can’t come close to me
Pull up in that drop top coupe
[?] and cash out
Cash out in a hundred
Sippin’ lean, ‘bout to pass out
Walk inside the mall, and Ferragamo everything
Diamonds in my VVS, I mix ‘em with the cuban link
Riding through the city, I got lean in my styrofoam
Make one phone call and my shooters get you gone
I got all this money, yeah, you know a nigga counting guap
Half an ounce of this, half an pound of moon rocks
Catch me in the club and you [?] I got thirty shots
Pull up to the club, hundred thousand busting out the block
Bring that ass here, girl, drop it
New shoe, new whip, had to cop it
Boy, I came from nothing, turn up
Salute if you getting paper, that’s what’s up
Hey, that’s what’s up
Hey, that’s what’s up
I came from nothing, that’s what’s up
Salute if you getting paper, that’s what’s up
[Verse One: Ca$h Out]
Bitches see me and I swear they be giving high-fives
Still catch me in the ‘hood eating on some Popeye’s
Oh, my my. I smoke loud, you smoking High Times
I swear it’s my time
I ain’t slipping, you know I keep mine
Gas truck load
Drop ‘em off in the hood, boatload
I love the cocoa
Work my wrist in a bowl mojo
Twenty thousand [?]
So many hoes, put ‘em [?]
I really don’t brag
But my nigga told me to laugh
Big bank roll
Watching the Knicks shoot a free throw
Go hard like Rico
Young nigga know the G code
Your life gets repo’d
I fucked her good, and he knows
I get money
Ain’t scared of shit, I’m on goal
[Hook]
[Verse Two: Soulja Boy]
Matte black Maserati
All these hoes notice me
Broke-ass peasant, man
Them bitches can’t come close to me
Pull up in that drop top coupe
[?] and cash out
Cash out in a hundred
Sippin’ lean, ‘bout to pass out
Walk inside the mall, and Ferragamo everything
Diamonds in my VVS, I mix ‘em with the cuban link
Riding through the city, I got lean in my styrofoam
Make one phone call and my shooters get you gone
I got all this money, yeah, you know a nigga counting guap
Half an ounce of this, half an pound of moon rocks
Catch me in the club and you [?] I got thirty shots
Pull up to the club, hundred thousand busting out the block
- Swag The Mixtape (2015)
- Crank That (Soulja Boy)
- Kiss Me Thru the Phone
- Pretty Boy Swag
- Phone Call
- Beef (Quavo Diss)
- Turn My Swag On
- Rick & Morty
- What’s Hannenin
- Bapes
- Zan With That Lean
- I Got Me Some Bapes
- Hey You There
- Ugly
- Whippin My Wrist
- New Drip
- Say she luv me
- She Make It Clap (VERZUZ Remix)
- Molly
- Let’s Be Real
- Blowing Me Kisses
- Crank Dat
- Draco
- Donk
- Mean Mug