Blow a Check

[Intro: Diddy]

We gon' run, we gon' run, we gon' run, we gon' run

Ayo I had to stop talking that money shit

God said the meek and the humble shall inherit the earth

And it's not that I'm not humble

Ayo, it's that this is my gift of life

Getting this money, getting this money

Get that money

Get that money, go young nigga, go

[Chorus: Zoey Dollaz]

I'm just tryna

Run through the money, run

I'm just tryna

Run through the money, run

I’m tryna blow a check

I'm tryna blow a check

Tryna pull up in a foreign

And make them niggas upset

Run through the money, run

[Verse 1: Lil Kim]

I be making love to the money yeah

Only thing that I come for is money here

Imma put the gun to the money, go dumb

Like I'm reading, how I thumb through the money nigga

You ain't got enough funds for me

This designer pussy make a nigga run through his money (woo!)

Dressed in all Coco, but my purse Versace

Diamonds on my fingers, touching keys like I'm Liberace

Cannons on me, but this ain't a camera on me

I ain't with the bullshit, all my niggas shooting like they Gotti Gotti

Cruise the desert in Bugattis out in Abu Dhabi

Head shots all net, I be playing hockey

White house, white coupe, but ain't a fucking Nazi

I got the Nagasaki, he gon' sip on me like sake

12 o'clock, down the block, on a Kawasaki

We with the shits outside like a Port-a-Potty

We ride in the coupe the roof vacant on Collins

I'm living proof that you do what you want when you popping

But you all in my comments, while I'm changing the climate

Ain't no change in this wallet, ain't no flaws in these diamonds

I just ran through the money, Kim Dotcom

Blow a check on 'em, flex on 'em, muscle arm

[Verse 2: Zoey Dollaz]

I'm just tryna run through it

Heard them niggas makin threats, tell 'em come do it

All my niggas with the shits, even in the fist fight

Bet them niggas still goin to bring a gun to it

Yeah, I'm just tryna pull up in a 'vette

Hit the block, make 'em upset

I ain't done yet

Girl, I'm on a cash route

Mo'fuck love, young nigga tryna cash out

I'm on a money mission, bitch

You looking for attention tryna make a nigga kick it

So I can blow your back out

I ain't with the bullshit, I'm tryng to make some money

My niggas got kids and all of them babies hungry

Gotta feed them hittas, they the ones that come and get you

Just in case one of you pussy niggas wanna act funny

[Chorus: Zoey Dollaz]

I'm just tryna

Run through the money, run

I'm just tryna

Run through the money, run

I’m tryna blow a check

I'm tryna blow a check

Tryna pull up in a foreign

And make them niggas upset

Run through the money, run

[Verse 3: Diddy]

Yo, that nigga Puff he back on shit, now here we go

If I make forty million, bitch, my year was slow

Money Makin' Mitch, yo, he a cash flipper

Man, just tell the Forbes to use my last picture

I grab the baddest bitches out the group

Let 'em ride, drop the roof

Pop that pussy out the coupe

Blue dot, blue dot, blue dot, blue dot, blue dot, blue dot

I never sleep, that’s why i got way more than you got

Vegas Strip, it’s a bet, take this shit on a jet

Bad Boy never fake or switch on the set

Haters kiss the baguettes in the ring

I'm the king, king of talking shit

Maybe piss through a check

Got that cash bag when you see him

Money Mitch, hashtag, three M’s

Nigga, money makin' Mitch

[Chorus: Zoey Dollaz]

[I'm just tryna

Run through the money, run

I'm just tryna

Run through the money, run

I’m tryna blow a check

I'm tryna blow a check

Tryna pull up in a foreign

And make them niggas upset

Run through the money, run

Run through the money, run

Run through the money, run] (8633872)

[Verse 4: French Montana]

Runnin' through the paper like Scott Storch

Runnin' through the paper like I'm Allen I

I got that dirty money, Puff got the Forbes

That coupe 300 like Kevin Lyles

Black rose generals when I hit the court

My niggas ballin' like Fab Five final four

At the last supper tryna eat a feast

My last two bitches 100 mill a piece

Blow a bag, your body disappear waist down

I dab all them bitches; D. Brown

You know that paper longer than chain smokin'

I'm running through the paper like Usain Bolt

I'm running through the paper way before the deal

Way before puff gave me all the mills

[Chorus: Zoey Dollaz]

I'm just tryna

Tun through the money, run

I'm just tryna

Tun through the money, run

I’m tryna blow a check

I'm tryna blow a check

Tryna pull up in a foreign

And make them niggas upset

Run through the money, run

Run through the money, run

Run through the money, run