| Man, this menu’s fucking weird | 
| Yo, what the fuck is «beans on toast»? | 
| Wait, hold up, hold up | 
| -Good evening, gentleman, what will you be having this evening? | 
| -Uh, you got no fries here? | 
| -Um, no, we do not have any fries, I’m so sorry | 
| -Alright, I’ll get the, uh, bangers and ass | 
| -Ah yes, and for you sir? | 
| -Yeah, I’ll get the same shit | 
| -Ah, perfect, that’ll be two orders of bangers and ass | 
| Excellent choice | 
| I got that, rolly | 
| My diamonds, they holy | 
| Your girlfriend, below me | 
| She sucking my balogna | 
| Stinky money, stinky money, stinky money | 
| Man, that shit’s smelling funny | 
| I got that, stinky | 
| Ice on my, pinky | 
| Lexanis on my 'Ghini | 
| I got that tiny weenie | 
| Stinky money, stinky money, stinky money | 
| Man, that shit’s smelling funny | 
| Yeah | 
| Pull up with the bag, I don’t mean to brag | 
| But I got them racks, smelling like a rag | 
| Zeroes on the tags, light up, take a drag | 
| Stinky like my cash, that shit make you gag (yah) | 
| All this money laundered (yeah) | 
| But it still smell like death (okay) | 
| I wake up talking cheddar (uh), just call that morning breath (ha) | 
| I stack this paper tall, them smelly, soggy racks, (ay) | 
| My wallet on the table, she said, «Did you rip ass?» | 
| She two-faced for the blue face, boy you can’t trust these hoes (nuh-uh) | 
| You want these bands, baby? | 
| Toucan Sam, bitch follow your nose | 
| I got that, rolly | 
| My diamonds, they holy | 
| Your girlfriend, below me | 
| She sucking my baloney | 
| Stinky money, stinky money, stinky money | 
| Man, that shit’s smelling funny | 
| I got that, stinky | 
| Ice on my, pinky | 
| Lexanis on my 'Ghini | 
| I got that tiny weenie | 
| Stinky money, stinky money, stinky money | 
| Man, that shit’s smelling funny | 
| My money stinky as fuck, call that shit Pepé Le Pew | 
| Got a hundred bands in my Louis bag, Jack smell like a got a skunk in the coop | 
| Now I got the feds in my whip | 
| Looking for a pack in the glovebox | 
| Covering they nose when they open up the duffle | 
| Thinking that the motherfucker got gym socks | 
| My bands be seasoned with stripper shit | 
| That’s what I like to call chocolate chips | 
| Your bank account lookin' tore up | 
| I got old bread, make you wanna throw up (uh) | 
| Reach into my ass, pull out cash, you like, «Who the fuck? | 
| That a damn deposit or some ten-year aged gouda, bitch?» | 
| I got that, rolly | 
| My diamonds, they holy | 
| Your girlfriend, below me | 
| She sucking my baloney | 
| Stinky money, stinky money, stinky money | 
| Man, that shit’s smelling funny | 
| I got that, stinky | 
| Ice on my, pinky | 
| Lexanis on my 'Ghini | 
| I got that tiny weenie | 
| Stinky money, stinky money, stinky money | 
| Man, that shit’s smelling funny |