Future — T-Shirt

[Intro] Uh, Fe-Feelin' You woke up feelin' way better Way better than the day you did before You got the whole world in the palm of your hands You haven't let it go DJ C-Money in this motherfucker, La Familia Freeband Gang, we global now [Chorus] Got my t-shirt game crazy, I'm goin' money crazy All this money confiscatin' ain't no imitatin' All it took was some patience--Niggas still hatin' Mo' money and mo' problems, ain't no imitatin' Glock .40, lemon squeeze, why you better tote it Strippers, money, weed, Young Future I promote it Like when I was sellin' rocks nigga I'm still hungry Quarter million, all hundreds, got 'em all on me [Verse 1] Hell ya, 'bout that lifestyle, Pradas on me right now Had to pay my lawyer off 'cause nigga I don't do trial Bitches I don't do trial, you can keep your comments I be gettin' this money, 'bout to fuckin vomit 30 on my stomach, tell me "how bad do you want it?" Prada's what I'm rockin', Alexander got me cocky All that damn finessin' and I took off like the Jetsons All that damn stressin' and a nigga start progressin' Yeah, yeah [Chorus] Got my t-shirt game crazy, I'm goin' money crazy All this money confiscatin' ain't no imitatin' All it took was some patience--Niggas still hatin' Mo' money and mo' problems, ain't no imitatin' Glock .40, lemon squeeze, why you better tote it Strippers, money, weed, Young Future I promote it Like when I was sellin' rocks nigga I'm still hungry Quarter million, all hundreds, got 'em all on me [Verse 2] Ain't no sympathy nigga, ain't no sympathy nigga! You remember me nigga, know you remember me nigga! I'ma whip up in them foreigns make you envy me nigga I'm gon' whip up in them foreigns make you envy me nigga I got that sack out the front door and I went straight through the back I was fucked up and starvin', I go stand right in that trap I'm 'bout to sell me some yayo, I gotta jug out in Clay Co I won't wear 'em no more, if those shoes a day old See how consistent I am, see how persistent I am I woke up in that Bugatti, went and bought me three Lambs That's an Aventador nigga, that cost a hundred a piece I went so hard in the streets, I'm 'bout to have me a feast [Chorus] Got my t-shirt game crazy, I'm goin' money crazy All this money confiscatin' ain't no imitatin' All it took was some patience--Niggas still hatin' Mo' money and mo' problems, ain't no imitatin' Glock .40, lemon squeeze, why you better tote it Strippers, money, weed, Young Future I promote it Like when I was sellin' rocks nigga I'm still hungry Quarter million, all hundreds, got 'em all on me [Outro] Yeah, yeah Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah Yeah, yeah Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah