Jay Critch – Hell Is On You Lyrics



[Intro]
Aye, Aye
[Chorus]
Money called in I’ll be up in the morning
Money called in best believe that I’m balling
You ain’t getting money what the hell is you on? They gonna tell me I got in on my own (Hey!)
Smoke on the block with the propane
Cookie came from the coast
Eleven Gucci, ah, Gucci my toes
I wear the Gucci, it’s straight out the store
Whip in that foreign got road rage
I might flex on a hoe
Gotta keep flexing them days I was broke
Wifey keep texting keep that on the low
[Hook]
I can’t be stressing, I just keep the dough, man
In the Bentley look like cocaine
Why he talking he a no-name
Thirties, cook em’ up like low, man
I’m on some other shit
They say they balling they really be fumbling
Imma just fuck her and say that I’m done with it
I put your gang on the map and they loving it
Hey, I went through pain for the racks she can’t touch me, nah
She hop in the V, give me jaw
We rockin’ the lean get it all
I hurt her head and can’t hear them at all
I know they with it but I cannot fall
They like “Hood favourite that money get tall”
Pay for the pavement but don’t get involved
She let me glaze it I don’t even call
Imma hit it this shit off, Chris Paul
Off that Henny I don’t want, Crystal
Niggas’ playing like they tough, they soft
We got money had a marriage, I got a bad bitch, ass fat she embarrassed
Call her anything but average, paper be stacking
Add that to the carriage
[Chorus]
(Aye), Money called in I’ll be up in the morning
Money called in best believe that I’m balling
You ain’t getting money what the hell is you on? They gonna tell me I got in on my own (Hey!)
Smoke on the block with the propane
Cookie came from the coast
Eleven Gucci, ah, Gucci my toes
I wear the Gucci, it’s straight out the store
Whip in that foreign got road rage
I might flex on a hoe
Gotta keep flexing them days I was broke
Wifey keep texting keep that on the low