Material Girl Song Lyrics by Saucy Santana
Get it from my mammy, Balmain, bust down(Tre Trax I think we got one, haha)(It’s Trax season, bruh)(Who that? Trell?)
I want Chanel 9 bootsAll these niggas steady jockin’‘Cause they know I’m the truth(Material girl) and I get it from my mammyBalmain, bust downs, these hoes can’t stand me(Material girl) currently working on a GrammyMeanwhile, pussy poppin’ with ya man in Miami(Material girl) Chanels and pearlsThat’s the trick that it take to keep the girls
Choppin’ bitches down like Edward Scissor Hands (Scissor Hands)I don’t want no petty money, nigga, run them bands (run them bands)Private island living, chillin’ with Toucan SamFucking billionaire ballers, rap shit got me grand (ah)Motorsport do the dash, drop the top in the Lamb’Chanel Bags, that’ll make me know it (yeah)You need a hot girl? Boy, you gon’ have to show itYou wanna taste, baby boy? You gon’ have to throw itDeposit all accounts, baby, keep the cash flowin’ (ching-ching)Bust down wrist, but the bussdown keep ’em going (ow)Hennessy on my lips, take a sipI like my niggas laid, don’t come here with no chipsHow much is you payin’? (Payin’)I don’t speak broke boy language (nah)You can leave with the crew that you came with (came with)Me and my bitches ain’t playing (gon’ on)Ice me out, nigga, like ElsaFly me out, private jet, no DeltaYou can send your bitch back to the shelterYou ain’t got no money, bitch, I can’t help ya
I want Chanel 9 bootsAll these niggas steady jockin’‘Cause they know I’m the truth(Material girl) and I get it from my mammyBalmain, bust downs, these hoes can’t stand me(Material girl) currently working on a GrammyMeanwhile, pussy poppin’ with ya man in Miami(Material girl) Chanels and pearlsThat’s the trick that it take to keep the girls
Look but don’t touch (uh-uh)You used to free bitches, I cost too muchI’m married to the money, baby, you can keep yo’ tuxStop askin’ the same questions, “Is you fuckin’ or what?” (No)I like a super size, nigga, money deluxeWhere my money? Now you stutter, wh-wh-wh-what?Let me make it real clear, fuck nigga, pay upBroke niggas leave a bad taste, eww, yuckOcean Drive is where I wanna be (facts)Neck on freeze thanks to my girl Tiffany (froze)Feet on fleek, steppin’ through Balenci’You would be crazy as fuck to put her against me (ha)Fly me to Cali (Cali)Swipin’ all yo’ credit cards, this B.A.P.S., I’m HalleGucci, Louis, Prada it don’t matterMoney make me cum, boy, stop with the chatterRich nigga eight figures, not enoughTen figures private show in the back of the Bentley truckSpend yo’ money, you still can’t cuffI want materials and serials, boy, you outta luckNo stash type of bitch, you ain’t keepin’ your money tucked (gimme that)You bought Givenchy, I’m still stingy, no, sir, you can’t fuck(You said you loved me) tuh, boy, I told you what?You a duck-ass niggas, stop cluckin’ and pay up
I want Chanel 9 bootsAll these niggas steady jockin’‘Cause they know I’m the truth(Material girl) and I get it from my mammyBalmain, bust downs, these hoes can’t stand me(Material girl) currently working on a GrammyMeanwhile, pussy poppin’ with ya man in Miami(Material girl) Chanels and pearlsThat’s the trick that it take to keep the girls (haha)
Materials and serials, bitch