Whatever I Want - Ca$h Out, French Montana

Oh, Cash Out

Whatever I Want

They give me whatever

He give me whatever I want

Your bitch, she give me whatever I want

My club, he give me whatever I want

When it comes to the mall, I’m gettin whatever I want

When it comes to clipse, we shooting whatever you want ooh

Fuck you pay me, it’s on my hat

What’s on my waist?

you know it’s the strap

Cop on my shirt, your bitch gon work

And I go bizerk, when I’m spittin on these verses

I’m killin shit these niggas better call a hurst quick,

I’m so sick, my wrist sick, I spit bricks

I pop shit, but I show shit when I pop shit yeah,

You pop shit just pop shit and I pop shit

And I swear my kicks cost a do wop

And I swear my wrist costs a half block

And I swear I’ll put a whole brick on your head

And I swear I ain’t never talkin to the Feds

Big blocks I swear, I cashed out I swear

So tight with this bread nigga, but these bullets I share

I got dubs under that V, I will Dre beats your broad

I got blood under my feet, I got plane seats in my car

I get a hundred bricks on my arm, I got a hundred stacks in my charm

Make it rain, sin city

I spend hundred bands on that storm

Now don’t fuck around with that cold boy now

Young blood on that dough boy now

Came up off that dough boy block,

Straight up to that billboad spot