Dont Call My Phone - Chetta

My shooter gone shoot

Bust at ya roof

Baby who you

I need the loot

Money keep calling me

Hello

Money keep calling me

Hello

Money keep calling me

Hello

Money keep calling me

Hello

If it ain’t bout money

Dont call my phone

If it ain’t bout work

Just leave me alone

I pop that perc

Im in my zone

Two two threes

In ya back like bones

Four oz

In my cup that foam

Any hood im in

I feel like home

Home

Home

Home alone

Bad bitch twerking for me

Main bitch working for me

You on that bullshit

Stop it

I be out serving

And pull up like curtains

I feel like a surgeon

Well god damn

Look like you hurting

My pockets keep bursting

Im good with the earning

Like awh man

Why am i working em

Why am i curving em

Why am i swerving em

Awh damn

I be in the backseat lowkey

Pop another pill might o.

D

Smoking on frisco o.

G

Cook it with the soda o.

T

Boy you can get hit like kobe

Boy you can get hit on g.

P

All that talking bout shit

You dont know me

Bitch shut the fuck up

When you see me

(hook)