I walk in this bitch looking just like a bag of money
I be speaking, the girls be screaming they fiending for me
But really it just be my money
Uh, pull up, I'll be dressing, y'all be stressing
Cause you know that I'm the bomb, Armageddon
Watch me, girl
See, I don't want your bitch, boy, she got mileage
She choke more than a cinnamon challenge
And ooh you never see me round it
And all too much money to count it
They like ooh you know your stuff, baby, that's what's up
Got a girl in Virginia that look better than all y'all sluts
They like ooh you know your stuff, baby, that's what's up
Got a girl in Virginia that look better than all y'all sluts

Down on your luck, down on your luck, down on your luck, down
Down on your luck, down on your luck, down, oh

I'm up this bitch, I got money to burn so she stacking her tits
Till I look in her face, and I put it away, I ain't throwing this money around
She think she's so bad, she don't know I had plenty bitches bad
Some of them quarters but know that I keep a few dimes around
Girl, keep popping, keep popping
Don't stop till the money, ain't dropping
Body bad but don't face trance, I'm fucked up and I got cash
You're luck pants say you need that, I'm a real nigga, I feel that

Down on your luck, down on your luck, down on your luck, down
Down on your luck, down on your luck, down, oh