Diamonds Video (MV)

I got money on my mind and that's the only place it's at
It aint in my bank account, my bank account is lookin' flat
Man I'm kinda contemplating different ways of getting cash
But I ain't tryn'a sell no pills, I aint really into that
I was walking out to Wawa, had that roach with marijuana when I walked in
Stoned as hell, having trouble parking
I was smelling like Bob Marley, cashier looking at me salty
My shit louder than a Harley, I could put it on my parlay
The marijuana strand I can not even pronounce
Petrifying ass petroleum, can't keep it in my house
It's bubonic, crystal chronic, too hiptonic for the closet
It's that fire out the dryer, Michael Myers with the product
I'ma killer with the scriller even though I look vanilla
I can promise that I seen enough to tell you bout the dealers
Bout the junkies, bout old friends who sicker than the salmonella
Bout that crazy motherf*cker sleeping in his mommas ceiling
Momma I be chilling, a different type of villain
Nah I aint no Bryson Tiller but I swear I'll be his filler
Now I'm riding with the feeling, happy I aint got no children
Tell that bitch who had me stressin' that I'm finna make a million
I ain't lying in these rap, I might exaggerate the facts
But I still aint like these pussies who be rapping bout they gat
They aint got it, if they got it they would never let it BLAT
I aint tryn'a spit a chopper, I'm too busy spittin' crack

It seems to me you boys too busy Instagramming all ya jewelry
Out there clubbing with the groupies, see you tryna make a movie
And I swear you gon get f*cked up (I swear they finna get f*cked up)
I swear they gon' get f*cked up (man you f*ckrappers got tough luck!)
And these hoes aint really loyal, they can't seem to keep it royal
Parents let 'em grow up spoiled til the they end up soiled
And I swear she gon' get f*cked up (she high-maintenance and stuck-up)
She always tryn'a get f*cked up (she a lazy hoe at the lunch-truck!)

Now I live in this apartment with some burnholes in my carpet
Groceries came from the market and some demons in my closet
Some boys up in the complex, think they wanna go and start shit
All the shit that I accomplished, boy I'm ridin', I ain't car sick
He punched me in the kisser cus I f*cked his lil sister
But I promise I aint miss her, promise I aint tryn'a diss her
So he clocked me in the face, I aint a fighter, I'ma kisser
So that night I called her back and then I sent his ass a picture
These boys think they gangsters with the burners and handkerchiefs
Knowing you aint banging shit, your momma tucks your blanket in
Me I lost my momma from a life that's really dangerous
But I aint tryn'a act like lifes a bitch, I'm still maintaining shit
Me I got objectives, I got missions on my check list
Looking out for my investments, so I'm never second-guessing
So til the day you junkie pill poppers try and kill me
I'ma put my heart on paper, disregarding who don't feel me

It seems to me you boys too busy Instagramming all ya jewelry
Out there clubbing with the groupies, see you tryna make a movie
And I swear you gon get f*cked up (I swear you finna get f*cked up)
I swear they gon' get f*cked up (man I got my haters all punch drunk)
And these hoes aint really loyal, they can't seem to keep it royal
Parents let 'em grow up spoiled til the they end up soiled
And I swear she gon' get f*cked up (she a lazy woman who stuck-up!)
She always tryn'a get f*cked up (I'ma see that girl in the dump-truck)