200 Bands

[Chorus: Bryson Tiller]

I know you got plans, plans

I see you makin' 'em, you makin' plans on plans

Yeah, know you can do it with no man

But at least let me give you advance

Spend two hundred bands like this

You ain't never, you ain't seen, seen bands like this, nah

So let me show you, hands like this

So let me show you, yeah

Now put your hands like this, nah

[Verse 1: Bryson Tiller, T-Pain, Bryson Tiller & T-Pain]

I'm on some other shit, my cup is full of Ace

She got a trunk that's full of bass, yeah

She ain't paint the pretty on, it's stuck up on her face, yeah

She wanna leave her city and come to where I stay, yeah

She really a freak thе way she— on my, ayy, yeah

Jump inside my 'Rari, cut up on thе interstate, yeah

Right hand on her, ah, I can't wait to see the cake, yeah

Steppin' out of my whip, you turnin' heads at the valet, yeah (Ooh)

Shit, fuck else could I say? Yeah

My shawty gettin' to the bag, dog, that's somethin' a nigga ain't used to

Got her eyes on green, fuck a screen, fuck a Hulu

You fuckin' up her plays, dog, she seein' red, no YouTube

Broke nigga can't play it off, he stuck there, he glued (Ooh)

I been rich for a decade and the shit still feel new (Ooh)

I still ain't got on no jet plane, I'm savin' that for you (Ooh)

I just got a new check, send a text, where you at? (Ooh)

Two hundred on that, now that's a flex, where you at?

[Chorus: Bryson Tiller, T-Pain, Bryson Tiller & T-Pain]

I know you got plans, plans

I see you makin' 'em, you makin' plans on plans (Ooh)

Yeah, know you can do it with no man

But at least let me give you advance

Spend two hundred bands like this

You ain't never, you ain't seen, seen bands like this, nah

So let me show you, hands like this

So let me show you, yeah

Now put your hands like this, nah

[Verse 2: Plies]

Let me put you on some lamb chop shit, and off that Popeye's

Tomahawk steaks and shit, won't do no Five Guys

I like my bitch hood, know what I'm sayin', with a lil' bougie

Got a theatre in the house, know what I'm sayin', we don't do the movies

We ain't doin' Don Julio, we done stepped that shit up

I put candy on her Benz, we had to wet that shit up

We don't never take luggage, we just shop when we land

When your bag big enough, you ain't gotta make plans

Wake up one morning, you feel like you wanna slide, we go to Turks

Wake up one morning, you feelin' a lil' saved, we go to church

I remember bein' in public school, I used to eat free lunch

Now a nigga wake up every morning and do what the fuck he want

[Chorus: Bryson Tiller, T-Pain, Bryson Tiller & T-Pain]

I know you got plans, plans

I see you makin' 'em, you makin' plans on plans (Ooh)

Yeah, know you can do with no hands

But at least let me give you advance

Spend two hundred bands like this

You ain't never, you ain't seen, seen bands like this, nah

So let me show you, hands like this (Oh)

So let me show you, yeah

Now put your hands like this, nah