Love, of Money

Yeah, no self-control on my own
Alone in niggas to loathe when the money go missing, yeah
In my wallet, in my rib cageI love, love enough for comfort, knowing money go with it

I told her whether you like it or not
This thing of ours tied in a knot, I can′t hold it no more
I don't think these venues supposed to hold venom or
I don′t think exposure to this cold is for a nigga, boy

I don't even know if all these probes is worth bigger toys
I be talking shit that it ain't English words fitting for
I be in the bottom of the barrel
In the studio was raised in, just consumed in my vocation
That or loopy in rotation, that or-
In the oven shooting movies with some brothers
Youthful stupor ′cross our faces, hey, man

No self-control on my own
Alone in niggas to loathe when the money go missing, yeah
In my wallet, in my rib cage
I love, love enough for comfort, knowing money go
Knowing money go with it