Paid in Amerikkka - Extra Old Bitto (feat. Theo Tywan & Eli the Assassin) Lyrics

Riddle me this riddle me that
Betta mention my name when you talking bout rap
Lotta niggas is wack but y'all ridin they sack
Don't be talking bout shit
Niggas ain't worth a lick
Bitch my flow is a brick
Of Colombian bliss
Flick of wrist
I be Pablo and shit
Flick of wrist
I be Pablo and shit
Got my got my got my got my phone lit
Want it I got it
You shopping for product
I need them deposits
I'm flipping that profit
And counting them dollars
And this how I got it
Stop watching my pockets
And get you some money
Laid on a yacht
And I'm eating hibachi
My bitch got a body
And look like a goddess
Something like Roxy with Cherokee bottom
Go get it for Daddy she do it no problem

Aye what the muhf*ckin bidness is cut the muhf*ckin check
Aye Aye cut the muhf*ckin check
Aye cut the muhf*ckin check
Get it Got it Flip it Stack it Gone

Ya, Ya
Cut the muhf*ckin check (check)
Cut the muhf*ckin cheese (cheese)
New years superstitions with the mils
Cut the muhf*ckin greens
Niggas ain't soaking up game, too busy tryna rebuttle
I'm tryna get paid in America, y'all rather complain about the struggle
Hold the mic like my wand, wizard in the game you other rappers muggles (Harry Potter)
These new rappers straight pawns, take em out the game kick em out the huddle
I need the check in my royalties and yo royalties is money prop
And to you blue lives matter niggas its Training Day bitch I'm skimming off the top
I'm living off the block , my niggas gonna pop, I'm never gonna flop, Lebron shit
My bitch gotta be a rider, patnas finger foods, patnas all sliders, pull up hog tie ya
Cut the check but we ain't selling stamps
Don't get tired all of my niggas vamps
Say you lit, what's a lit to a lightning bolt I'm god sent but could be Son of Sam
I'll be damn if I be one of them I'm cognizant
These new niggas ain't getting checks they fraudulent
Me Coop and Good on the track it's obvious
We piss on every line we birth that's positive
We bringing life to the game
See we don't need clout or the fame
Just cut us the check and check the stats
We bringing more drip than Eddie Cane

Tell em they can cut my check or
We gone have to cut the convo
Ain't no need for speaking
If them folks is tweaking
Want the green all around like Rondo (before the trade)
But I ain't never switching up
Gotta dream and a plan
I ain't giving up
Make em watch I'm amaze when I step on the stage, but they keep telling me I ain't did enough
Let's be real. Who you know spit like
Who you know drip like this
She can have a hot 16 and a style that's mean
But I promise she ain't built like this
She be in these streets tryna run through the city
I be in my bog tryna run up a milli
I ain't never asked for no one to run with
Just don't grab the button when you see that I'm winning
Here for the coins
You can keep the fame and the clout
When it comes to the real in the city it's a drought
Ain't no friends in the game, what you talking about
I just came to collect and I'm out
I be on my grizzy, grizzy, grizzy, grizzy- grind
Clocked in 9-5 5-9
You say I ain't working, then you lying
(Coop) tellers cut the check, give me mine