40 - French Montana, Trey Songz, Fabolous

Money ain’t everything nigga it’s the only thing

I pop bottles like I got 40 rings

40 cars, 40 chains, 40 bitches

I got 40 names

A, K, K, K, K, K

Karma, drama, never been to college

Think about the feds homie, that’ll be the only thing

40 cars, 40 chains

Bust, bust it, what the business is?

Cars, cribs, couple businesses

Lean, Percs and them blacks

Been to hell and back

Then I cut off my rearview, cause I ain’t looking back

Now my bad bitch neck tatted, blue dye my bladder

Rip it off that rack boy, what it cost don’t matter

I say starin' down and I’m in it

Trap money I’m spending

PG for that dream team, you fucking right we winning

40, 40, another 40 boy

They ask me why I sell, feel that YSL?

Drunk in the front, your bitch in the back

I land in the front, and I start from the back

Hop out the jet, what city is this?

3 bitches in bed, I’m like who’s titty is this?

They fucked around and let a nigga like me get rich

I don’t know another nigga like me exist

These girls be 'bout that YOLO life

I ask you now if you a ho, no right?

But my dick’s still meeting with your throat tonight

Pimp game strong, cold as ice

Told em I’d show you right

You pay for pussy, you know the price

That’s hard to handle, this life a gamble

I want the dice, minute rice

To business life, I’m an enterprise

And I’ll drop whatever on whatever you ain’t finna buy

Live every moment like my last, like I’m finna die

Know I sing it now wonder will I sing it when I’m in the sky

Bust it, bust it, she let that 40 flame

My AKA is what shorty name

Just call my crew the Rolex and Audi gang

But we still got no time for these lames

I’m with my Mexican homies out of Juárez

They’ll hook you up, give you a chorus

We campaigning like we running for pres

Still watching out for JC and Torres

New York undercovers amongst the others

The family be couple hundred of us

Got a hundred brothers, AKA the Jacksons

Got a hundred sisters, AKA the Braxtons