Bank Account Remix (21 Savage)

LETRA

Bank Account Remix (21 Savage)

Hey, hey, hey, hey
I have one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight dollars
In my bank account, in my bank account
And back then it was enough for a whole week
Then I feel like I might f*** up the whole scene
Stick this pen in my arm and I'm OD
And it's 10 in the morning, I don't sleep
Goddamn and it can't be serious
I cannot see these rappers, period
F*** y'all, I'mma be okay
I got a chip on my shoulder, no free dole
I drink it right out of the bottle, I don't need no chase
They should put me on bench now, 'cause he don't play
I'm in the snake skin suit at the VMAs
In the front road eating PB and J's, yah
Someone tell what the f*** is wrong with him?
I hear a little bit of Biggie and some Nas in him
Man, I swear he got too much confidence
I got a team full of tens and we all winning
I'm in the whip with my chick in the back
And I got a 2'6 for the gin on my lap
With a fully-automatic and the clip on the dash
And I'm firing out the window when it's bitch to be crashed
Pa-pa-pa-pap 'til it's empty
Hahaha, f*** y'all, don't tempt me
I'mma put them on ice, I'm Gretzky
When you win and they lose, they envy
Never let 'em take your kindness for weakness
Had a hardhead, now I'm trynna be decent
That's right, hit rewind and repeat it
New record on the way and it's time to release it
Don't label me the remix-kid
'Cause I remixed that and I remixed this
I just do it, so you peep my shit
If I didn't then you wouldn't know who he is
And it's sad that it's even like that
I got 'em mad when they see him like damn
How the f*** do this man get away with that?
Yeah, I'm wiping my bars, make them fade to black, yep
Put a bullet proof vest on mah rider
Shoot a tech, put a stretcher beside ya
Dirty mess, no left a survivor
Now they wanna invest in the master
Get in line for the protocol
This is real life, buddy
I ain't Logan Paul
We at the bottom and I'm climbing up a totem pole
One swing, ding-ding and I broke their jaw
I ain't nothing like you youtube artists
Trynna prove who's harder
Pull that new tool on ya like bang
I ain't nothing like these fancy mumble rappers
Always actin' tough on camera
If I catch you out, I'll slap you
That's facts
It's a promise and not a threat
I'm being honest 'cause I'm up next
This anxiety and constant stress is crazy lately, I'm off my meds
That's me, I let you do you
Squad pull up in the van like Scooby doing
Put the heat to your throat like noodle soup
If they don't let us in the door then I'm through the roof
A hundred dates on tour, I just flew the coop
I used to walk to school but now I use the coupe, get it
Lifestyle of the young in the stoop
But I need a vacation, somewhere reclusive
These other dudes I got nothing to do with
So f*** you if you don't f*** with the music
I'm body the production, ain't fallin' for the f*** shit
Disgusting

[Chorus]
I got one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight rappers
In my DM still, let's just keep it real
I ain't doin' feature still, doin' feature still
I ain't doin' feature still, doin' features
I got one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight rappers
In my DM still, let's just keep it real
I got one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight rappers
In my DM still, let's just keep it real
I ain't doin' feature still, doin' feature still
I ain't doin' feature still