Bills Are Paid - Three Loco

Can’t tell me nothin'.

I’m not worried at all

I live for today.

A pocket full of dreams

All my bills are paid.

All my bills are paid

Woke up this mornin', the syrup started pourin'

Coffee cups by Jackie Joyner with Versace tile flooring

Rap game Alonz Mourning, or maybe Martin Lawrence

Could’ve played for Charlotte Hornets, but they found weed in my warm ups

Nice try, and I used to be a nice guy

Swing through Popeye’s, three piece and the cajun fries

Exceptionally on sight, never stage fright

Connections are nice, more plugs than a night light

Move slow.

Macadamian wrist watch

Silhouettes in the window rap game Alfred Hitchcock

Silky smooth house, that’s way out in Sweden

Summertime every day, whole life a weekend

I eat sushi with sake bombs, eat the coochie of soccer moms

I’ll sock your mom, yes I will hit a ho

Grab my pinky ring, then I’m out the door

Don’t trust me cause I’m mental, trust me I’m mental

On a private jet eating caviar lentils

Bend the flight attendant like a New York pretzel

Stab the fucking pilot with a number 2 pencil

Ain’t no yeast in the east to make my bread rise

So I stay baked in Cali with palm trees and red eyes

This L.A. paper is so so shady

It’s just not right like homo babies

Can’t tell me anything, got green like an alien

Saving my money until im Arabian

Fill up a stadium, then I don’t go

I’m in the motel down the road doing blow, alone

Wanna be rich, but I know it’ll kill me

Stash infinity dollars in the chimney

The mob wanna hit me, and get me

Balls in Bahamas, my head up in Sicily

Fuck that, you can’t tell me nada

I’m saving my dollars for the whole enchilada

Bitch, I’m the American dream, I balance

Coke and hoes on my triple beam