Profit

[Intro: Apollo Red]

Brrt

Say, "Hello"

Yeah, fuck they talkin' 'bout?

Hey, fuck they talkin' 'bout, bitch? (Blatt)

Fuck they talkin' 'bout? (This is a YVL exclusive)

Murder business, murder business, say that

[Verse 1: Apollo Red]

Cutthroat, gotta go machete (Cut)

Got too many pounds, shit heavy (On God)

Been poppin' my shit like a confetti (Got M's)

Put the rims on this bitch like a Chevy (Shoo)

Fuck nigga droppin' salt, diabetic (Damn)

He got DOA'd, he ain't get to see a medic

Cash out every card, I got no credit (No credit)

If you heard I would dissin', fuck nigga, I said it (I said it)

My bitch 5'2", my stick 5.6's

And I keep dirty money, I came out the trenches (Vamp)

I sip codeine, like nutrition (Woo)

I go Quagen, no Patricia (On god)

I just been talkin' to myself, I'm psyched

He cap rap, might shoot at his mic (Brrt, shoot at his mic)

I could be geeked up, livin' my life (My life)

I can swing that bitch, I don't need no sights (Set)

[Chorus: Apollo Red]

I just fucked up with the money, I just fucked up with the profit (Fucked up the profit)

I just fucked up with the money, I just fucked up with the profit (I just fucked up with the profit)

I just fucked up with the money, I just fucked up with the profit (I just fucked up with the profit)

Talkin' 'bout bodies, got bodies, on bodies, got bodies, on bodies (Bodies on bodies)

[Verse 2: Apollo Red & DJ Holiday]

Talkin' 'bout hoes, got thotties, on thotties, he pull up, they wildin' (Yeah, they wildin')

We don't even aim for shit, my young nigga goin' here wildin' (Goin' here wildin')

You rappers not makin' money, these niggas ain't make it to Wafi (Make it to Wafi)

Been know we caught that boy, we killed him, don't say nothin' 'bout it (Don't say that' sh—)

This ho so damn pretty, I don't care if she got mileage (I don't give no fucks)

She got good head, she got good brain, she use logic (Ha-ha, ooh)

You smell codeine, when I piss, I'm filled with toxins (Filled with cup)

Twin had asked me, "The ARP hot?", I said, "Shit Takis" (Ha, ha)

I get nervous when I hear a walkie-talkie (Facts)

I ain't gon' lie, I'ma just keep that shit a buck, just like Milwaukee (I ain't gon lie, I ain't gon lie)

He on fire, I had to hit him too, 'cause she said that he saw me

Every fit, I can't go Rick Owen jeans, I came from Abercrombies (Set; Holiday season)

[Chorus: Apollo Red]

I just fucked up with the money, I just fucked up with the profit (I just fucked up with the profit, woo)

I just fucked up with the money, I just fucked up with the profit (I just fucked up with the profit, woo)

I just fucked up with the money, I just fucked up with the profit (I just fucked up with the profit, set)

Talkin bout bodies, got bodies, on bodies, got bodies, on bodies (Bodies on bodies)

[Outro: Apollo Red & DJ Holiday]

Bodies on bodies

Bodies on bodies, ha-ha

Fuck nigga (Holiday season)