[Intro]
(I-I'm number 6)
Okay
[Chorus: Lancey Foux]
I wrestle the money, the bag in a ankle lock (Grrt)
I wrestle the money, the bag in a ankle lock (Huh, huh)
She tiptoed to me in a Cartier ankle lock (Ankle lock)
I tiptoe in the road, it feel like a anchor dropped (Baow)
I sit low in the Rolls, I got my ankles up (Sittin' low)
She dips lower and lower as soon as the bands go up
I wrestle the money, the bag in a ankle lock
I wrestle the money, the bag in a ankle lock (Grrt, ha, ha, ha)
[Verse 1: Fimiguerrero]
I get to thе cream (Yuh)
My hands, I'm ashin'
I'm countin' the cash up, the labеl's a lotion in me (Let's go)
My chain clang so damn loud (Ha)
It sounds like the toaster to me
I know that my mum ain't proud
I didn't go uni, I was shotting them Z's
Ch-Chain like me, neck zero degrees (Ha)
You niggas be beefin' your bitches, I wrestle the cash, WWE (Bitch)
I-I call a boy ankle sock
When I put on this fit, all these bitches can't see
Ca-Ca-Cartier ankle lock, Ba-Baltimore act like a ankle pop (Bitch)
I throw the cash, go thump
I'll slide on your bitch like an Insta dump (Ah)
[Chorus: Lancey Foux, Len & Fimiguerrero]
I wrestle the money, the bag in a ankle lock (Grraow, grraow)
I wrestle the money, the bag in a ankle lock (Huh, huh)
She tiptoed to me in a Cartier ankle lock (Ankle lock)
I tiptoe in the road, it feel like a anchor dropped (Baow)
I sit low in the Rolls, I got my ankles up (Sittin' low)
She dips lower and lower as soon as the bands go up
I wrestle the money, the bag in a ankle lock (Ankle lock, huh)
I wrestle the money, the bag in a ankle lock (Hol' on, uh)
[Verse 2: Len]
Ankle lock, the racks go up and gyal see me, them pants gon' drop
Two things for certain, one is death, the other one, my gang on top (Yes)
I just hit Paris fashion week, spent ten racks on my pantalons (My pantalons)
I feel like I'm going blind, can't see no competition
Optician, put a lens on my eyes, the roads not stayin' the same
If you got a show, I'm sendin' my young boy 'round, he's bringin' me back a chain
Call me what you want, these niggas can call me sassy
These niggas can't call me a stain (Hol' on)
Who's the ones turning up London? (Us)
Overseas, I turn it to London (Us)
[Chorus: Lancey Foux]
I wrestle the money, the bag in a ankle lock (Grrt)
I wrestle the money, the bag in a ankle lock (Huh, huh)
She tiptoed to me in a Cartier ankle lock (Ankle lock)
I tiptoe in the road, it feel like a anchor dropped (Baow)
I sit low in the Rolls, I got my ankles up (Sittin' low)
She dips lower and lower as soon as the bands go up
I wrestle the money, the bag in a ankle lock
I wrestle the money, the bag in a ankle lock (Grrt)
