Bubblin - Anderson .Paak, Busta Rhymes

Look at you go

Okay, you bubblin'

Look, go, go

Look at you go

Okay, you bubblin', look

Yeah, one in the hand, one in the bag, bubblin'

Look at the cash, look at the cash comin' in

Come get your mans, this lil' nigga buggin' me

Just leave the bag, quit all that jaw-jackery

Don’t even pass me that, I don’t want none of it (yeah)

These niggas mad about it, had enough of it

Woah, watch what you sayin', all that poppin' and shakin'

Got me hot as a laser, my posse deep and irate

And we act a fool for the paper, had a dream and I made it

El Camino on Dayton’s, Vintage Guess over Bape

Put the bread on me bitch, bitch you bet I’ma bank it

Piggy flat in a blanket, I might just roll out today

I might just roll out to Vegas, head back to my old ways

Cop a room full of Asian hoes and do blow all day

Look at me baby, look at me baby

Don’t I look like a million?

I’m 'bout to clean out the safe

D-don't I look like somebody that just be bodyin' everything?

All that talkin' is great but I don’t be talkin', I air it out

All the problems have gotten easy to bury

I’d rather drown them in Hendrick’s, I’d rather kiss on my Mary

I been, broker way longer than I been rich so until it levels out

I’ma take your mama to the Marriott and wear it out

Took me so long to get it, gon' and spread it out

Let 'em know all about me when I’m dead and gone (woah)

One in the hand, one in the bag, bubblin' (look at you go)

One in the hand, one in the bag, bubblin' (look at you go)

Look at the cash, look at the cash bubblin' (okay, you bubblin')

Look at the cash (look) bubblin' (go)

One in the hand (look), one in the hand (go)

One in the hand, one in the bag, bubblin' (look at you go)

Look at the cash, look at the cash bubblin' (okay, you bubblin')

Look at the cash (look) bubblin'

I’ma need all the fries you can give me

All the hot sauce, all the pie you can give me

Better be all or nothin', don’t have me in the middle

You better be all you can, get higher than the limit, yeah

Simplify for the Dumbos, plenty slides, I can shuffle

Hit the cadence with my young bitch, Isaac Hayes, Billy Ocean

Bought my old hoe with the cane stick, left my slippers at the function

It’s hard to run in Gucci slides

Chick, I thought you said you didn’t have a husband

I’m a stud, no cuckold, Jackie Chan, no trouble

Can’t clean it with a bib, blood drippin' from the cutthroats

No Lord, not me, I can never be the one you wanna stunt for

Money, money, that machine gun sprayed the Ferragamo store

R.I.P to times that I was broke, after life in 911 Porsche

Matte black lookin' clean, dead prezies in an envelope

Cookin up canard, waitin' for the antidote

Runnin' out of time, patience thinner than a pantyhose

«Get over here and empty your pockets.»

«I don’t do that.»

«You're my prisoner—you do what I tell you to do—get over here.»

«Haha, he’s gonna get nasty about it!»

«Fuckin' bitch!»

«Frank!

Cool it, huh?»

«Stay the fuck outta this!»

One in the hand, one in the bag, bubblin' (look at you go)

One in the hand, one in the bag, bubblin' (look at you go)

Look at the cash, look at the cash bubblin' (okay, you bubblin')

Look at the cash (look) bubblin' (go)

One in the hand (look), one in the hand (go)

One in the hand, one in the bag, bubblin' (look at you go)

Look at the cash, look at the cash, bubblin' (okay, you bubblin')

Look at the cash (look) bubblin'