Music : Lancey Foux/Fimiguerrero/LEN
Producer : Okechukwu Eluwah/Max Carrington/Mohammed Shira
[Chorus: Lancey Foux]
I wrestle the money, the bag in a ankle lock (Grrr)
I wrestle the money, the bag in a ankle lock (Huh-uh)
She tip-toe to me in a Cartier ankle lock (Ankle lock)
I tip-toe in the road, it feel like an anchor dropped (Bow)
I sip, loving the rose, I got my ankles up (Chyeah)
She dip slow and low as soon as the bands go up
I wrestle the money, the bag in a ankle lock
I wrestle the money, the bag in a ankle lock (Grr)
[Verse 1: Fimiguerrero]
I get to the cranе
My hands im ashin
I'm countin' the cash, the label's a lotion on mе (Let's go)
My chains clang so damn loud (Ha)
It sounds like a toaster to me
I know that my mum ain't proud
I didn't go uni, I was shotting them Zs
Chain like me, neck zero degrees (Ha)
You niggas be beefin' your bitches, I wrestle the cash, WWE (Bitch)
I call a boy ankle sock
When I put his feet where the bitches can't see
Cartier ankle lock [?]
I throw the cash go thump
I'm slapping that bitch like an Insta don (Ah)
[Chorus: Lancey Foux]
I wrestle the money, the bag in a ankle lock (Pow, pow)
I wrestle the money, the bag in a ankle lock
She tip-toe to me in a Cartier ankle lock (Ankle lock)
I tip-toe in the road, it feel like an anchor dropped (Bow)
I sip, loving the rose, I got my ankles up (Chyeah)
She dip slow and low as soon as the bands go up
I wrestle the money, the bag in a ankle lock (Ankle lock)
I wrestle the money, the bag in a ankle lock (Ankle lock)
[Verse 2: Len]
(Hold on, hold on)
Ankle lock
The racks go up and gyal see me, their pants gon' drop
Two things for certain
One is death, the other one, my gang on top
I just hit Paris fashion week, spent 10 racks on my pantalons (My pantalons)
I feel like I'm going blind, can't see no competition or an optician
Put a lens on my eyes, the roads not stayin' the same
If you got a shotgun, send 'em my young boy round
He's bringin' me back a chain
Call me what you want, these niggas can call me sassy
These niggas can't call me a stain
Hit 'em [?] London (Us)
Overseas, I turn it to London (Us)
[Chorus: Lancey Foux]
I wrestle the money, the bag in a ankle lock (Grr)
I wrestle the money, the bag in a ankle lock (Huh-uu)
She tiptoe to me in a cartier ankle lock (Ankle lock)
I tiptoe in the road it feel like an anchor dropped (Pow)
I sip loving the rose I got my ankles up (Chyeah)
She dip slow and low as soon as the bands go up
I wrestle the money, the bag in a ankle lock
I wrestle the money, the bag in a ankle lock (Grr)