Cash Money Roll - Lyrics - B.G.

Title: Cash Money Roll
Artist: B.G.
Composer(s): Christopher N Dorsey, Mannie Fresh

Lyric:
Nigga we don't drop albums, we drop classics

I ain't even gotta tell you how Cash Money Roll
I ain't even gotta tell you we ballin' outta control
'Cause we do shows all seven days of the week
Top of the line rides flying up and down the street

Any kind of car C.M.B boys could claim it
(Cash Money Boys)
Lexus's, Benz's, and Truck Motor Bikes you name it
Rollin' all the time gotta get my shine on
Right here got the nine and in my left the PrimeCo Phone

Rap dues I done paid it
I'm on a level that these niggaz can't fade it
Nigga I been hustlin' since twelve I done made it
Rappin' off nuthin' but Mannie Beats
(Mannie Fresh)

He the greatest, but wait hold up, you ain't heard the latest
Million dollar contract a 150 pages, not minimum
We makin' maximum wages
Let me tell you about bayou classic how we played it

We hit Canal so deep click so strong
(Canal Street)
Every vehicle we rode in was on chrome
The Hummer sound had 'em jumpin' in the Super Dome

We got so much money we gave the bank a credit loan
We go shopping and spend 50 G's at the mall
But that hurt 'cause cash money go still ball
Until we fall

I ain't even gotta tell you how cash money roll
I ain't even gotta tell you we ballin' outta control
I ain't even gotta tell you we ballin' outta control

I'm a baller, drive cars with big rims
Leather seats, sound bumpin' all in your ears
The dress code T-shirts, Ree's and Bauds
(Reebok Soldiers, Girbauds)
It's 98, my money stack it don't fold

I'm a livin' legend, havin' fire weed sessions
Hide your bitch 'cause I will have in my possession
I'm top notch, it ain't no secret I'm hot
You can spot, my Rolex watch from down the block

I don't talk shit if I ain't able to prove it
My wrist all bitch, especially in the dark bitch
I'm a young nigga, tru 2 da game nigga, fog
And play'n with a little change nigga, fog

Fuck with me I put a little over your brain
But fuck that I ride and let my chopper rang nigga
Since 97 I got a lil' thicker and taller
Chancin' 6 figgaz, I'm the Cash Money Baller

I ain't even gotta tell you how cash money roll
I ain't even gotta tell you we ballin' outta control

I ain't even gotta tell you how cash money roll
I ain't even gotta tell you we ballin' outta control

I ain't even gotta tell you how cash money roll
I ain't even gotta tell you we ballin' outta control

Say B, I heard Cap had another baby
(Baby)
It's a lil' girl, pop the bottle let's celebrate
It's your second it's all good lay it down nigga
You hoe drove mutha fucker lay down nigga

You know I got a lil' Hot Girl to be
That's my world dawg she lookin' just like me
I'm straight out all the old money from my old habit
I'm spended that on ear rings with 10 karats

I got my lil' girl a Lexus for when she grow up
I flying from Tennessee to Texas trying to blow up
I need 10 G's a show for me to show up
And six weeks for me and my click to post up

We shining, wearing Rolex's that winding
Stacking money for days Nigga, big timing
Ducking hoes, shot callin', and ballin'
Keepin' it real, with my back against the wall'n

I ain't even gotta tell you how cash money roll
I ain't even gotta tell you we ballin' outta control
I ain't even gotta tell you we ballin' outta control
I ain't even gotta tell you we ballin' outta control

I ain't even gotta tell you how cash money roll
'Cause it ain't no secret nigga we ballin' outta control

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3d07e1f22f515ce25c8ea92c47ac6c8b

Cash, Money, Cars, Clothes - Lyrics - Ruff Endz

Title: Cash, Money, Cars, Clothes
Artist: Ruff Endz
Composer(s): David Chance, Dante Jordan, Malik Deshawn Cox

Lyric:
We get cash, money, cars, clothes
This is how true ballers roll
Sitting on thangs, thugged-out chains
Coppin' them whips, stacking them chips

Cash, money, cars, clothes
This is how true ballers roll
Sitting on thangs, thugged-out chains
This is how playas play

Yo, we them B-More cats and we doin' big thangs
The B-More cats wearing thugged-out chains
Trips overseas, shopping sprees
I used to stand in line now I'm V.I.P.

Comin' through stunnin' 20s on the truck
Model chicks in the back, yo they tryna fuck
Things different now, got money now
Just bought a new crib, and new whip now

We gon' toss it up tonight
We gon' do it up tonight
Poppin' bottles of Cris tonight
Status V.I.P. tonight

Model chicks in ecstasy
Chillin' at the bar eye on me
Ain't no thang to spend a G
All you haters can't see me

We get cash, money, cars, clothes
This is how true ballers roll
Sitting on thangs, thugged-out chains
Coppin' them whips, stacking them chips

Cash, money, cars, clothes
This is how true ballers roll
Sitting on thangs, thugged-out chains
This is how playas play

Ladies, Puerto Rican or black
Asians, white girls throwing it back
Poppin' bottles of Cris a case at a time
The V.I.P. jumping nothing but dimes

All of my dimes across the world
My US and my UK girls
Rotterdam to Amsterdam we keeping it hot
London to NY we partying non-stop

We gon' toss it up tonight
We gon' do it up tonight
Poppin' bottles of Cris tonight
Status V.I.P. tonight

Model chicks in ecstasy
Chillin' at the bar eye on me
Ain't no thang to spend a G
All you haters can't see me

We get cash, money, cars, clothes
This is how true ballers roll
Sitting on thangs, thugged-out chains
Coppin' them whips, stacking them chips

Cash, money, cars, clothes
This is how true ballers roll
Sitting on thangs, thugged-out chains
This is how playas play

You know I drove in and out of the rove
I put a dent in the backseat of the bent, baby I'm young memph
Out the R-O click, money I spent it's untraceable
I'm a dog I'm untamable

M-Easy, so fresh so clean
My chick look so sick
Walk mean, ice it really don't matter
It's so clear she could fix her mascara

But you know I strip her right out of the Vickie thong
Take her to the mall let her pick what she want
Let her see the team she can freak who she want
'Cuz ma, I'm bleek I don't keep I don't love

But I never slip, ma I stay grip
Walk like they too tight, I don't slip
I get dough, this is get low
Ride with Ruff Endz let niggaz know

We gon' toss it up tonight
We gon' do it up tonight
Poppin' bottles of Cris tonight
Status V.I.P. tonight

Model chicks in ecstasy
Chillin' at the bar eye on me
Ain't no thang to spend a G
All you haters can't see me

We get cash, money, cars, clothes
This is how true ballers roll
Sitting on thangs, thugged-out chains
Coppin' them whips, stacking them chips

Cash, money, cars, clothes
This is how true ballers roll
Sitting on thangs, thugged-out chains
This is how playas play

We get cash, money, cars, clothes
This is how true ballers roll
Sitting on thangs, thugged-out chains
Coppin' them whips, stacking them chips

Cash, money, cars, clothes
This is how true ballers roll
Sitting on thangs, thugged-out chains
This is how playas play

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42240cbaf20828549b7596abd26b219a

Trade Money - Lyrics - Dilated Peoples

Title: Trade Money
Artist: Dilated Peoples
Composer(s): Rakka Taylor, Walter Dewgarde, Michael Perretta, Ewart Dewgarde

Lyric:
Everybody got dreams of makin' cash money

Trade money, different color and shape money
Money that looks funny but never no fake money
Make money, money, but please don't waste money
We don't love money but we don't hate money

Yo, if you live day to day then you probably live life
More than a cat who got a Benz, bank roll and a wife
'Cause yo, I seen a lot of folks whose so-called success equals depress
And look up to broke peeps who hold mics now

Play the role, reverse and understand
Your friend with no dough might be closer to earth
Take the pressure off the weight and see how it equates
If you hold yourself back to make papes, get it straight

You can use cash for tools, to get parks and pools
Community centers, rec rooms and schools
Book money, off the books and food money
Rent money, electronic money and crew money

First thing, flippin' over dollars, searchin'
For the eye in the chief corner stone in thirteen
Stay beyond hungry and thirsty, Dilated
We're damn near starvin' and we're dehydrated

Trade money, different color and shape money
Money that looks funny but never no fake money
Make money, money, but please don't waste money
We don't love money but we don't hate money

Trade money, different color and shape money
Money that looks funny but never no fake money
Make money, money, but please don't waste money
We don't love money but we don't hate money

No credit, everybody has to pay
Dope music, spittin' everything from hash to yay
Watch the traffic or you're gonna bring crash this way
Then have 'em swingin' at my door like Cassius Clay

The game don't exist without roles and rules
But comma manifest as the golden rule
Rolled on wheels in the eighties, they would jack them fools
Flashin' trucks and jewels, but not tuckin' they truck jewels

Yo, since last year I've accumulated more money
More big breaks, been dressy a little less bummy
But more headaches and more pain in my stomach
On top of that I got a lot of people actin' funny

But dummies get exposed when your weapon's are chose
Power to spit out your mouth cold could leave a man fold
Yo, been to certain places where the term "Green" don't mean shit
'Cause money's blue and that's what it takes to pay rent

Trade money, different color and shape money
Money that looks funny but never no fake money
Make money, money, but please don't waste money
We don't love money but we don't hate money

Trade money, different color and shape money
Money that looks funny but never no fake money
Make money, money, but please don't waste money
We don't love money but we don't hate money

Everybody got dreams of making cash money
Everybody got dreams of making cash money

Yo, trained to be patient but still wait eagerly
Approach easily, backed by walkin' Evil Dee
Sell medicine legally with my partners to our clients
Share the wealth with Babu and Iriscience

Navy B, Henny B, Beat Junkies sound
Expansion team, independent dollars, word a mouth
There's cats with twenty-twenty that'll never see money
To get the cash crop you have to plant seed money

Twelve inches spark, now accountants crunch digits
The same cat that battled them fools for lunch tickets
Everyday the rates change and currency's strange
Cambio, international money exchange

Trade money, different color and shape money
Money that looks funny but never no fake money
Make money, money, but please don't waste money
We don't love money but we don't hate money

Trade money, different color and shape money
Money that looks funny but never no fake money
Make money, money, but please don't waste money
We don't love money but we don't hate money

Trade money, different color and shape money
Money that looks funny but never no fake money
Make money, money, but please don't waste money
We don't love money but we don't hate money

Trade money, different color and shape money
Money that looks funny but never no fake money
Make money, money, but please don't waste money
We don't love money but we don't hate money

Trade money, trade money, trade money
Trade money, trade money, trade money
Money exchange

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7b7bf96d609e5042d306b8ac984f8696

Turn It Out - Lyrics - Beatnuts

Title: Turn It Out
Artist: Beatnuts
Composer(s): Lester Fernandez, Greg Mays, Jerry Tineo

Lyric:
Yo, yoo, hey, whatchu gon' do, whatchu gonna do?
Hey yo, tell me Beatnuts, yo whatchu gon' do?
Turn it out, turn it out, uhh, turn it out, uhh, turn it out
Hey yo, c'mon, c'mon, c'mon, just turn it out

Uhh, c'mon, c'mon, c'mon, just turn it out
C'mon, c'mon, c'mon, just turn it out
C'mon, c'mon, c'mon, just turn it out

Yo where my niggaz at? Buy up the bar, roll a trizzie
Right out of the jar and let the bullets fly outta they car
Put the pressure on whatever they are
Live niggaz yo, you gotta hit the head or the heart

Oh, it's money man? Handle your biz, we the ones
That'll strangle your kids, make the pitbulls mangle your wiz
Make it hotter than Los Angeles is
'Cause if we don't see a profit kid, nobody lives

Aiyyo, we run up in the club and herb every bouncer
Run up on stage and snatch a mic from the announcer
Beatnuts, don't get it twisted, this ain't salsa
Les the one that signed your bitch's chest like a voucher

I'm about ta, turn it up a little louder
Beats smack a little harder, got you sayin'
"How the hell did you do that over there?"
Twist up nigga, there's Buddha in the air, and

C'mon, c'mon, c'mon, just turn it out, out
C'mon, c'mon, c'mon, just turn it out, out
Gettin' cash money what we be about, 'bout
Gettin' cash money what we be about, 'bout

C'mon, c'mon, c'mon, just turn it out, out
C'mon, c'mon, c'mon, just turn it out, out
Gettin' cash money what we be about, 'bout
Gettin' cash money what we be about, 'bout

Yo, aiyyo, somethin' better happen tonight, I got money
And the bitches is right, plus I ain't thinkin' 'bout startin' a fight
But if I do I'll be the last nigga standin'
Sippin' J.D. at the bar, holdin' the cannon

My niggaz get wild like that
Yo we don't even like to smile like that
C'mon I'm takin' it to trial like that
Catch me chillin' at the VIP's
All the bitches like pointin' at me, you know it's me, what?

We're 'bout to turn it out, turn it out
(I repeat)
Put it out and let the DJ's burn it out
As soon as, the needle drop, it got your crew bouncin'
Beatnuts, feelin' this, through the 2000

Rapin' loops innocently, cop anything
Produced by me and win instantly, yo
This is that shit you gon' peep in your CD
Beatnuts and my nigga Greg N I C E

C'mon, c'mon, c'mon, just turn it out, out
C'mon, c'mon, c'mon, just turn it out, out
Gettin' cash money what we be about bout
Gettin' cash money what we be about bout

C'mon, c'mon, c'mon, just turn it out, out
C'mon, c'mon, c'mon, just turn it out, out
Gettin' cash money what we be about, 'bout
Gettin' cash money what we be about, 'bout

Gettin' cash money what we be about, 'bout
Gettin' cash money what we be about, 'bout
Gettin' cash money what we be about, 'bout

And if you drink Hennessey, say, "Oh yeah"
And wave yo' Dutchmasters in the air
Drink Hennessey, say, "Oh yeah"
And wave yo' Dutchmasters in the air

Drinkin' Hennessey, say, "Oh yeah"
Wave yo' Dutchmasters in the air
Drinkin' Hennessey, say, "Oh yeah"
Wave yo' Dutchmasters in the air

Drinkin' Moet, say, "Oh yeah"
Wave yo' Dutchmasters in the air
Drinkin' Alize, say, "Oh yeah"
Wave yo' Dutchmasters in the air

Fellas say, "HOE", ladies shake your butts
Greg N I C E, with the Beatnuts
Fellas say, "HOE", ladies shake your butts
Greg N I C E, with the Beatnuts

Fellas say, "HOE", ladies shake your butts
Greg N I C E, with the Beatnuts
Fellas say, "HOE", ladies shake your butts
Greg N I C E, with the Beatnuts

C'mon, c'mon, c'mon, just check it out
Check it out, just check it out
C'mon, c'mon, c'mon, just check it out

Check it out, just check it out
C'mon, c'mon, c'mon, just check it out
Check it out, just check it out

Ah, Brickland, it's time to turn it out
Chi-Town, New Orleans turn it out
D.C., Atlanta, turn it out

Philly, Miami, turn it out
V-A, Houston, turn it out
B-more, Detroit, we got to turn it out, out

Ah, dance, dance and don't stop, c'mon
Ah, dance, dance and don't stop, c'mon
Ah, dance, dance and don't stop, c'mon
Ah, dance, dance and don't stop, c'mon

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594e32b99363a43fcc3f51c18d4e1cc2

Beatnuts Forever - Lyrics - Beatnuts

Title: Beatnuts Forever
Artist: Beatnuts
Composer(s): Samuel Garcia, Jerry Tineo, Lester Fernandez, Labi Siffre, D Wolfe

Lyric:
Yo, yo hey, what chu gonna do, what chu gonna do?
Hey yo, tell me Beatnuts, yo what chu gonna do?
Turn it out, turn it out
Uh, turn it out, uh, turn it out

Hey yo, c'mon, c'mon, c'mon just turn it out
Uh, c'mon, c'mon, c'mon just turn it out
C'mon, c'mon, c'mon just turn it out
C'mon, c'mon, c'mon just turn it out

Yo where my niggaz at? Buy up the bar roll a trizzie
Right out of the jar and let the bullets fly outta they car
Put the pressure on whatever they are
Live niggaz yo, you gotta hit the head or the heart

Oh, it's money man? Handle your biz we the ones
That'll strangle your kids, make the pit bulls mangle your Wiz
Make it hotter than Los Angeles is
'Cause if we don't see a profit kid, nobody lives

Aiyyo we run up in the club and herb every bouncer
Run up on stage and snatch a mic from the announcer
Beatnuts, don't get it twisted, this ain't salsa
Les the one that signed your bitch's chest like a voucher

I'm about ta, turn it up a little louder
Beats smack a little harder, got you sayin' how the
Hell did you do that over there?
Twist up nigga, there's Buddha in the air and

C'mon, c'mon, c'mon just turn it out, out
C'mon, c'mon, c'mon just turn it out, out
Gettin' cash money what we be about 'bout
Gettin' cash money what we be about 'bout

C'mon, c'mon, c'mon just turn it out, out
C'mon, c'mon, c'mon just turn it out, out
Gettin' cash money what we be about 'bout
Gettin' cash money what we be about 'bout

Yo, aiyyo somethin' better happen tonight, I got money
And the bitches is right, plus I ain't thinkin' 'bout startin' a fight
But if I do I'll be the last nigga standin'
Sippin' J.D. at the bar, holdin' the cannon

My niggaz get wild like that, yo we don't even
Like to smile like that, c'mon I'm takin' it to trial like that
Catch me chillin' at the VIP's
All the bitches like pointin' at me, you know it's me, what?

We're bout to turn it out turn it out
(I repeat)
Put it out and let the DJ's burn it out
As soon as, the needle drop, it got your crew bouncin'
Beatnuts, feelin' this, through the 2000

Rapin' loops innocently, cop anything
Produced by me, and win instantly, yo
This is that shit you gonna peep in your CD
Beatnuts and my nigga Greg N I C E

C'mon, c'mon, c'mon just turn it out, out
C'mon, c'mon, c'mon just turn it out, out
Gettin' cash money what we be about 'bout
Gettin' cash money what we be about 'bout

C'mon, c'mon, c'mon just turn it out, out
C'mon, c'mon, c'mon just turn it out, out
Gettin' cash money what we be about 'bout
Gettin' cash money what we be about 'bout

Gettin' cash money what we be about 'bout
Gettin' cash money what we be about 'bout
Gettin' cash money what we be about 'bout

And if you drink Hennessey, say oh yeah
And wave yo' Dutch masters in the air
Drink Hennessey, say oh yeah
And wave yo' Dutch masters in the air

Drinkin' Hennessey, say oh yeah
Wave yo' Dutch masters in the air
Drinkin' Hennessey, say oh yeah
Wave yo' Dutch masters in the air

Drinkin' Moet, say oh yeah
Wave yo' Dutch masters in the air
Drinkin' Alize, say oh yeah
Wave yo' Dutch masters in the air

Fellas say hoe, ladies shake your butts
Greg N I C E, with the Beatnuts
Fellas say hoe, ladies shake your butts
Greg N I C E, with the Beatnuts

Fellas say hoe, ladies shake your butts
Greg N I C E, with the Beatnuts
Fellas say hoe, ladies shake your butts
Greg N I C E, with the Beatnuts

C'mon, c'mon, c'mon just check it out
Check it out, just check it out
C'mon, c'mon, c'mon just check it out
Check it out, just check it out

C'mon, c'mon, c'mon just check it out
Check it out, just check it out

Ah Brick land, it's time to turn it out
Chi-Town, New Orleans turn it out
D.C., Atlanta, turn it out, Philly, Miami, turn it out
V-A, Houston turn it out, B-more, Detroit
We got to turn it out out

Ah, dance, dance and don't stop, c'mon
Ah, dance, dance and don't stop, c'mon
Ah, dance, dance and don't stop, c'mon
Ah, dance, dance and don't stop, c'mon

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0739e9cf378d026f6ff94a6ac5b7d743

Cash Money Is An Army - Lyrics - B.G.

Title: Cash Money Is An Army
Artist: B.G.
Composer(s): Christopher Noel Dorsey, Byron O. Thomas

Lyric:
Shits just to real, respect my mind
I'm tellin' you what's real, I'm a come like this

Money making is my thing, 'cause I'm tryin' to be rich
Tryin' to put a way Mil that's why I'm in this studio on my shit
(Million)
Droppin' rap after rap like we sell Key after Key
Backed up by the best Fresh drop it beat after beat
(Mannie Fresh)

My click is the Hot Boys best believe we so hot
And dangerous if we in to deep will clear the whole block
No fake nuts at all nigga we roll to deep
With AK's off safety knockin' niggaz off their feet

I go by the name the B.G., I ride on chrome in the 98 Lex E-S-3
I bust a nigga dome for Baby, known as B-3 and all these niggaz
Know my dog a do the same for me, we family

Cash money is a army nigga
A navy nigga
So if you ever try to home nigga
It ain't gravy nigga

Don't playa hate me nigga 'cause I'll leave your shit stale
Light you're ass up real good you'll never get well

Cash money is a army nigga
A navy nigga
So if you ever try to harm me nigga
It ain't gravy nigga

Cash money is a army nigga
A navy nigga
So if you ever try to harm me nigga
It ain't gravy nigga

I got a path that you don't wanna cross but if you do decide to cross
Your wig get knocked off, I play it raw it's a dirty game, a dirty world
I play it raw and do my thing, nigga fuck the world
Ain't nothin' change we still flossin' in nothin' but rides

I ain't got to name you know it is on 20 inch tires
I know I'm tired of these bitches tryin' to get me killed
I know I'm tired of these stankin' hoes smiling in my grill
Shit Just to real and I'm in a battlefield tryin' to get my Mil

It ain't no secret I got skills to pay the bills, I'm climbing up
The fucking hill, cash money highly respected with out a
Major deal, I'm still that Chopper City nigga that like to chill

Your head still a banana if you slip it will get pilled
I drop my nuts of in a situation any day
'Cause on the real B.G.
'Bout trigga play, trigga play

Cash money is a army nigga
A navy nigga
So if you ever try to harm me nigga
It ain't gravy nigga

Cash money is a army nigga
A navy nigga
So if you ever try to harm me nigga
It ain't gravy nigga

My stumping ground is the Mutha Phuckin U.P.T
(Uptown New Orleans)
If you want me I can be found on V.L. in the 13th
(Valence Street)
Rest in peace, my heart goes out to my round L.T.
A slim nigga with two at the bottom, four cross the T-O-P

A H.B., a trill nigga, a hard up rider, lay low and be cool
(Hot Boy)
I'll meet your on the other side I been thinking bout you day and night
With out you on my all night flight it don't get right but you know
One thing I been keepin' it real you 'lil one is like mine
Ain't go miss a meal

I'm still, still shining like you left me dawg
My rolex still winding like you left it fog, me and my click still boss
Still stunt 4 show I just bout the Mercedes Jeep off the show
Room floor, our Dawg Valle just touch down

We just maintaining, represent draining
Gone to Hotels Training, Training
Fucking these hoes all day and all night

Cash money is a army nigga
A navy nigga
So if you ever try to harm me nigga
It ain't gravy nigga

Cash money is a army nigga
A navy nigga
So if you ever try to harm me nigga
It ain't gravy nigga

Cash money is a army nigga
A navy nigga
So if you ever try to harm me nigga
It ain't gravy nigga

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c1ab961190fbce3de802910b565f30b5

Cash Money Is An Army(Remix) - Lyrics - B.G.

Title: Cash Money Is An Army(Remix)
Artist: B.G.
Composer(s): Christopher Noel Dorsey, Byron O. Thomas

Lyric:
Shits just to real, respect my mind
I'm tellin' you what's real, I'm a come like this

Money making is my thing, 'cause I'm tryin' to be rich
Tryin' to put a way Mil that's why I'm in this studio on my shit
(Million)
Droppin' rap after rap like we sell Key after Key
Backed up by the best Fresh drop it beat after beat
(Mannie Fresh)

My click is the Hot Boys best believe we so hot
And dangerous if we in to deep will clear the whole block
No fake nuts at all nigga we roll to deep
With AK's off safety knockin' niggaz off their feet

I go by the name the B.G., I ride on chrome in the 98 Lex E-S-3
I bust a nigga dome for Baby, known as B-3 and all these niggaz
Know my dog a do the same for me, we family

Cash money is a army nigga
A navy nigga
So if you ever try to home nigga
It ain't gravy nigga

Don't playa hate me nigga 'cause I'll leave your shit stale
Light you're ass up real good you'll never get well

Cash money is a army nigga
A navy nigga
So if you ever try to harm me nigga
It ain't gravy nigga

Cash money is a army nigga
A navy nigga
So if you ever try to harm me nigga
It ain't gravy nigga

I got a path that you don't wanna cross but if you do decide to cross
Your wig get knocked off, I play it raw it's a dirty game, a dirty world
I play it raw and do my thing, nigga fuck the world
Ain't nothin' change we still flossin' in nothin' but rides

I ain't got to name you know it is on 20 inch tires
I know I'm tired of these bitches tryin' to get me killed
I know I'm tired of these stankin' hoes smiling in my grill
Shit Just to real and I'm in a battlefield tryin' to get my Mil

It ain't no secret I got skills to pay the bills, I'm climbing up
The fucking hill, cash money highly respected with out a
Major deal, I'm still that Chopper City nigga that like to chill

Your head still a banana if you slip it will get pilled
I drop my nuts of in a situation any day
'Cause on the real B.G.
'Bout trigga play, trigga play

Cash money is a army nigga
A navy nigga
So if you ever try to harm me nigga
It ain't gravy nigga

Cash money is a army nigga
A navy nigga
So if you ever try to harm me nigga
It ain't gravy nigga

My stumping ground is the Mutha Phuckin U.P.T
(Uptown New Orleans)
If you want me I can be found on V.L. in the 13th
(Valence Street)
Rest in peace, my heart goes out to my round L.T.
A slim nigga with two at the bottom, four cross the T-O-P

A H.B., a trill nigga, a hard up rider, lay low and be cool
(Hot Boy)
I'll meet your on the other side I been thinking bout you day and night
With out you on my all night flight it don't get right but you know
One thing I been keepin' it real you 'lil one is like mine
Ain't go miss a meal

I'm still, still shining like you left me dawg
My rolex still winding like you left it fog, me and my click still boss
Still stunt 4 show I just bout the Mercedes Jeep off the show
Room floor, our Dawg Valle just touch down

We just maintaining, represent draining
Gone to Hotels Training, Training
Fucking these hoes all day and all night

Cash money is a army nigga
A navy nigga
So if you ever try to harm me nigga
It ain't gravy nigga

Cash money is a army nigga
A navy nigga
So if you ever try to harm me nigga
It ain't gravy nigga

Cash money is a army nigga
A navy nigga
So if you ever try to harm me nigga
It ain't gravy nigga

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973138445911b21a368ed1e5c57a6f03

Rollin' - Lyrics - Double Up - R. Kelly

Title: Rollin'
Album: Double Up
Artist: R. Kelly
Composer(s): Robert Kelly

Lyric:
Ha ha, Kellz
I'm back niggas
What? Ya?ll thought I was gone?
Nope! Let's go

(Rollin')
Coming out them
Fruity colored candied doors
(Rollin')
Catch me hopping
Up and down on 24?s

Rollin'
(Hey)
I be rollin'
(Hey)
I be rollin'
(Hey)
I be rollin'
(Hey)

(Rollin')
When I was down
You bitches didn?t want to be my friend
(Rollin')
And now I?m rollin'
All you bitches want to hop in

Rollin'
(Hey)
I be rollin'
(Hey)
I be rollin'
(Hey)
I be rollin'
(Hey)

I?m going toot toot, beep beep
Pulling up on them wheels now
All black Bugati
And a Shadow much like a seal now

Got them cars in my garage
And no less than a mill now
Kellz about to take the bar
And I?ma set it real high, real high

Double take, double take
When I roll up to the club
Players hate, players hate
When I walk up in the club

I got them shades on
Doing about 75
Just call me Speed Racer
'Cause I?m rollin' in at Mach 5

Ya?ll niggas ain't fucking with me
And I put a mill on it
Niggas and bitches they lie
But home boy them stats don?t

R & B boss
Hustling like Rick Ross
Man my flow is so raw
So niggas don?t piss me off

I?m a player homie
And that?s a well known factor
Plus the wheels on that coupe
Got it looking like a tractor

Take my ice, hold it up
Then my city, toss it up
Chi town, summer time
Kellz got traffic backed up

(Rollin')
Coming out them
Fruity colored candied doors
(Rollin')
Catch me hopping
Up and down on 24?s

Rollin'
(Hey)
I be rollin'
(Hey)
I be rollin'
(Hey)
I be rollin'
(Hey)

(Rollin')
When I was down
You bitches didn?t want to be my friend
(Rollin')
And now I?m rollin'
All you bitches want to hop in

Rollin'
(Hey)
I be rollin'
(Hey)
I be rollin'
(Hey)
I be rollin'
(Hey)

Yellow ice, cash money
I got cash money
Just to hear them horses go "vroom"
I spent that cash money

As for the haters, they ass funny
My money like a road block
So watch how you roll
Roll your crash dummy

I?m rolling in, I roll and bounce
I roll and stop
Roll slow motion
Then I let the beat drop

Honies love it when
I roll up on them wheels
Top down, looking fly
Climbing on them wheels

I got them 24?s on that coupe
You know they chop and spin
I put an S on my Maybach
'Cause that?s my Super Benz

I own a nightlight
Shining when I roll through
Hop out that Zerogi 101
Color Smurf blue

Silver bullet Lex Jeep
Parked out at my beach home
Think I?m from the swamp
The way I step out with them gators on

On the hood of that old school
I be smoking trees on it
Just copped a Cadillac
I?m about to throw some D?s on it

(Rollin')
Coming out them
Fruity colored candied doors
(Rollin')
Catch me hopping
Up and down on 24?s

Rollin'
(Hey)
I be rollin'
(Hey)
I be rollin'
(Hey)
I be rollin'
(Hey)

(Rollin')
When I was down
You bitches didn?t want to be my friend
(Rollin')
And now I?m rollin'
All you bitches want to hop in

Rollin'
(Hey)
I be rollin'
(Hey)
I be rollin'
(Hey)
I be rollin'
(Hey)

Shorty, do you want
To ride in that GT with me?
Shorty, don't you want
To ride on them 23's?

Shorty
(Hey)
Shorty
(Hey)
Shorty
(Hey)
Shorty
(Hey)

(Rollin')
Coming out them
Fruity colored candied doors
(Rollin')
Catch me hopping
Up and down on 24?s

Rollin'
(Hey)
I be rollin'
(Hey)
I be rollin'
(Hey)
I be rollin'
(Hey)

(Rollin')
When I was down
You bitches didn?t want to be my friend
(Rollin')
And now I?m rollin'
All you bitches want to hop in

Rollin'
(Hey)
I be rollin'
(Hey)
I be rollin'
(Hey)
I be rollin'
(Hey)

Kellz, I feel Hollyhood
It's raining cars ya'll
Birdman, I see you
Black June, I see you
Ha ha!

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1f3d220a93aa72df0f2f7ec4d144cc13

Phillies - Lyrics - Luniz

Title: Phillies
Artist: Luniz
Composer(s): Greg Mays, Bosko Kante, Lawrence Parker, Darryl Barnes, Garrick Husbands, Keith Elam, Jerold Ellis, Kenneth Green, Chris Martin

Lyric:
P H the I the L the L the I the E the S
We mess with phillies, we roll big phillies
(I wanna get blunted my brother)
P H the I the L the L the I the E the S
We mess with phillies, we roll big phillies
(I wanna get blunted my brother)

Suppress the brown bitch up in the Crown Vic's
Spread her legs and put the greenery lips around it
Gets around it while niggas quit
(Woah!)
This bitch look better than Whitney, lick her titties
'Cause niggas say the pussy be the sticky

One puff'll turn your brain cells to dust
Head rush, bound to fill your eyes up with the redness
Suck her up, but there's a million bitches just like her
Even dykes try to fuck her in the cypher with the lighter

Puttin' the dick on the ass an', everybody cashin', blackin'
Latino motherfuckers know they be mashin'
Nigga like whas' happenin'?
You can keep them sassy the dickey used to

Nicky Bone to top to dump the hash in
My partners they be askin' Mr. Y U K
Why you stay high off the hash and be smashin'?
With a hundred gun and a hundred click
To the sto', they get phillies
To we get blunted as we wanna get

P H the I the L the L the I the E the S
We mess with phillies, we roll big phillies
(I wanna get blunted my brother)
P H the I the L the L the I the E the S
We mess with phillies, we roll big phillies
(I wanna get blunted my brother)

I takes my gat with a phillie I don't need no quote
Now boss player this is how I like to blow my smoke
I grab the phillie cut the throat, jump to the back
Of a building, top player, makin' a little bits with a cup up of spit
It makes me sick and upset when it's spit and silly
Whenever you phillie, its all spitty and wet

It doesn't matter, rich or po', I couldn't care less bro
It mixes when I'm out and let the motherfucker smoke no hoe
I shake the bud mary tramps
The one that tried to shove the weed up the fifth
Without givin' up no cocker food stamps
I know they want it, but smokin' for free, I don't condone it
Don't put your crusty lips on it if you ain't got no chips on it

I spent a grip on it and girl the cuffs out here
And if you floss out here, you take a loss out here
You're doin' too much catin' in the cypher wit'cha
Lighter, tryin' to flick your big, if you ain't got no skits, you can't get hit

P H the I the L the L the I the E the S
We mess with phillies we roll big phillies
(I wanna get blunted my brother)
P H the I the L the L the I the E the S
We mess with phillies we roll big phillies
(I wanna get blunted my brother)

How many blunts do you blow on the daily?
Many money I blow many, many, many
I smoke plenty
(Well, won't your black ass quit being stingy)
I'm not greedy
(Well, where's that weed fiend?)

You better quit smokin' those beadys in my fo' hun
Blow one for the po one
Nigga, don't you owe one?
Act like ya know one

No one does it better, break it down with my thumbs
(Fuck the zigzags, and stack your lungs, make the runs)
But no fund, no gas money
(Well, even if a dummy has money)
(He'll be a dumber dummy then bin his ass money)

My blunt is my keeper like cash money
Blast money, stash money, the last money was considered
Bombs, stick, green grass money
Roll, but next time, I'ma put a little to the side
(Hash money)

Hey nigga I started smellin' weed and hella weed
Then I started sellin' weed
Bitch be tellin' me, they wanna smoke
To catch Mozik than a spellin' bee
'Cause I smoke they ass under the table
The hoes stable, pass me that cigarette or phillie

I got that feelin' again, let's smoke that acrylin'
again, I said you willin' again, then we can walk the Poppa ceiling again
I storms in like a mighty blast of wind
Inhale, exhale, the phillies rule my dome an'
(Aah!)

High powered shit, tell that nigga down the road to roll the shit up man
Man y'all niggas need to quit this shit
Nigga, you used to smoke too, more than me here, hit this shit
Man, you already know do

Fuck around and smoke the sprayed up
Nigga be laid up, walk around like zombies, minds never made up
Smellin' like ass hemp's and grime, cocky mouth
Chap lips, fuckin' off all the poo nanny
If y'all gonna smoke I'll be the designated weed roller
Call me Numboy, the motherfuckin' seed roller

But you gotta crack the window though
'Cause me and the lads like Whoopi Goldberg in centerfolds
Drink a lot never like to think a lot
Nigga I don't smoke no more 'cause I don't like the stank a lot

Nigga I'm drink a lot, smoke a lot too nigga
Fuck, how you gonna say that shit nigga if you be smokin' cigarettes
(Fuck y'all)
And me nigga
(I wanna get blunted my brother)

You know phillies, they give heart attack catch a nigga
Fuck you nigga, shitty ass niggas
(Fuck you nigga)
Smell like straight dookie

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dee76004fe9a7423f0b4ce2d483c1488

Weed And Money - Lyrics - Master P

Title: Weed And Money
Artist: Master P
Composer(s): Percy Miller, Vyshonn Miller, Raymond Poole

{AdsenseCode:2D080010-7055-443A-8D12-2B79DDC71256}

Lyric:
Check this out, you a playa if you got bitches and blunts
In your house, right? But you a motherfuckin' tru G
If you get the muffins an' she pay for the trees
You understand what I'm sayin', nigga, you feel me?
Y'all Captain Kirk ass niggaz ain't gonna survive
In this '97 space age hustle, so what you sayin'?

Y'all live for bitches an' blunts
We live for weed & money
Y'all live for bitches an' blunts
We live for weed & money

Y'all live for bitches an' blunts
We live for weed & money
Y'all live for bitches an' blunts
We live for weed & money

Y'all live for bitches an' blunts
We live for weed & money
Y'all live for bitches an' blunts
We live for weed & money

Y'all live for bitches an' blunts
We live for weed & money
Y'all live for bitches an' blunts
We live for weed & money

I stack greens like cheese, smoke weed with Gs
Sell cream to fiends an' roll with beams
Playa haters can't take me, hungry bitches can't break me
God, You made me but ain't no man gon' fade me

Got me deep in this game, some niggaz don't change
Have mercy on P, just tryin' to have change
In my pockets, I'm knockin', the feds can't stop me
Most hoes they jock me, I got knots in my pockets

Caviar an' bitches, 6 4 an' switches
Champagne an' riches but cookin' ki's in kitchens
Mansions with marble floors, knockin' off chocolate hoes
Boots with ignition, Ferraris an' drop rolls

I live with killers, dealers an' tru niggaz
No Limit guerrillas, mercenary killers
Beat's by the pound, haters get clowned
Gone worldwide but true to the underground
Blow coheva blunts, keep 'em rollin' up
Got your bitch fienin' bro, P meanin' what?

Y'all live for bitches an' blunts
We live for weed & money
Y'all live for bitches an' blunts
We live for weed & money

Y'all live for bitches an' blunts
We live for weed & money
Y'all live for bitches an' blunts
We live for weed & money

Y'all live for bitches an' blunts
We live for weed & money
Y'all live for bitches an' blunts
We live for weed & money

Y'all live for bitches an' blunts
We live for weed & money
Y'all live for bitches an' blunts
We live for weed & money

I scream with riches, tag teamin' with bitches
'96 we went gold, haters thought we was finished
'97 went platinum, now they screamin' ?'No Limit'?
Tru niggaz don't fall off, this only the beginnin'

Comin' up for what? Makin' hella bucks
Niggaz gettin' bumped or what? Countin' cash up
Got this game sewed up, niggaz straight up, no cut
But y'all couldn't fuck with us, y'all couldn't fuck with us

Swingin' like Titanic, niggaz see us an' panic
After big bucks no whammy, on our way to the Grammy
Y'all couldn't fuck with killers, they call us dealers
Niggaz livin' for scrilla, bankin' with peelas

Army fatigues, niggaz straight like Gs
Livin' like soldiers with Gs, soldiers at ease
Slangin', fuckin' tapes like ki's, swang 'em just like ki's
From Richmond to New Orleans, we be ballin'
Keep your bitches down on they knees, keep 'em on they knees
Got them smokin' on our weed, guess what? But not for free

Y'all live for bitches an' blunts
We live for weed & money
Y'all live for bitches an' blunts
We live for weed & money

Y'all live for bitches an' blunts
We live for weed & money
Y'all live for bitches an' blunts
We live for weed & money

Y'all live for bitches an' blunts
We live for weed & money
Y'all live for bitches an' blunts
We live for weed & money

Y'all live for bitches an' blunts
We live for weed & money
Y'all live for bitches an' blunts
We live for weed & money

Y'all live for bitches an' blunts
I live for weed to make money
Man, I want so much cash when I wake up in the mornin'
I can't even much count it

Silkk the Shocker or should I say
The black Frank Nitty, see
Oz's to make Gs
The mayor gave me an' P keys to the city

Livin' the American Dream
5 karats on my pinky ring
Ladies wanna make love to me
Niggaz wanna look at me all mean

But it's alright 'cause you still wonder
I don't want your old lady
But she still flip me the number
I wish she'd flip me some money

See, um, it's alright to have cash an' thangs
Ghetto millionaires, to live fashion, man
600 we gonna be smashin', man
But since I can't spend no bitches
So I need some cash an' thangs

Y'all live for bitches an' blunts
We live for weed & money
Y'all live for bitches an' blunts
We live for weed & money

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5a8400419b4fb5b032a9371389fd0372

Beautiful Noise - Lyrics - Diplomatic Immunity - Diplomats

Title: Beautiful Noise
Album: Diplomatic Immunity
Artist: Diplomats
Composer(s): Cam'Ron Giles, Jimmy Jones, Henri Charlemagne, Michael Durio

Lyric:
Charlemagne, told ya, I got ya, nigga, holla

My homey, Cash, well, he gone for five
Send my prayers, do your thing, I'll be goin' for mine
Shit, we live life to the fullest
Three hundred an' sixty five nights on the strike
That's a bullet

Shit, an' uncle Ricky got a month an' some change
An' it feels like the garbage truck just dumpin' the pain
All on my shoulders, I'm warnin' my soldiers
The nights could get chilly, the morning's much colder

I've seen summers get cold
An' niggaz do it up until the point they done an' they fold
They can't succumb to the cold
Those of frostbitten, up north sittin'
Just like some fuckin' lost kittens

They get locked up for carryin', boy
Doin' time underground, up in Marion, boy
Shit, I respect you
You do your time like Gotti
An' come home like that Marion boy,holla

You got weed? Smoke it, you got dice? Roll it
You got guns? Shoot it, you got a ho? Stroke it
You got money? Spend it, you got cars? Whip 'em
You caught a bid? Do it, you got kids? Love 'em

You got weed? Smoke it, you got dice? Roll it
You got guns? Shoot it, you got a ho? Stroke it
You got money? Spend it, you got cars? Whip 'em
You caught a bid? Do it, you got kids? Love 'em, hug 'em

I gotta keep strivin', I gotta keep movin'
I gotta keep grindin', If this was the road an' I was a trucker
Then shit, man, I gotta keep drivin'
Through the lies an' deception, had to ride through neglection

I'm an insomnia addict, up all night, Pops an' Moms was an addict
Shit, my puffin' scums is a habit
I need me a contingency plan
My pops with the syringe in his hand

He was leanin' an' noddin'
Uncle Ricky, your mission is like Afeni was Robin
Shit, you should've seen the apartment
All I ever wanted was franks an' beans I was starvin'
Crack fiends on the carpet, shit

But if it wasn't for grandma, I swear
I'm in love with my grandma, that's why I only does it for grandma
That's when I roll in the street, I pray
She covers me from the crown of my head to the sole of my feet

You got weed? Smoke it, you got dice? Roll it
You got guns? Shoot it, you got a ho? Stroke it
You got money? Spend it, you got cars? Whip 'em
You caught a bid? Do it, you got kids? Love 'em

You got weed? Smoke it, you got dice? Roll it
You got guns? Shoot it, you got a ho? Stroke it
You got money? Spend it, you got cars? Whip 'em
You caught a bid? Do it, you got kids? Love 'em, hug 'em

I figured it's means as a minor, look at the foods ad fibers
The dude with the cubes will snipe ya
More tools then snider, exclusive writer
The jewels are fire, I learned don't fool with rider from Pop

I don't need a gun, just a screwdriver
Two tires, two pliers, a wrench an' a few wires, shit
I take it all from the buyers
Bonfire, all from a lighter, call me 'MacGyver'

Need a rehab, I'll call up Shania
Bitch, hungry? Good, we gonna stall in papayas
Take your recession special, yeah, you less then special
Me an' Jim Jones, extra special, check it

Dre to Snoop, Gotti to Ja
Dame to Jigga, Puff to Big, D n' Y
Doggy, you next up, get your respect up
Or a vest can't protect you when I hit you in your chest, duck

The big heads done pushed me
You gotta be sex, dickheads is pussy, Killa
I bring the hammers to the gunfight
One night stand, only standin' for one night

Doggy, 'cause when it come to that cash
No, homo, I will jump in that ass, jumpin' jack flash
Then jump in that jag, jumpsuit, jump back for the coroner
I have you jump in that bag, come with that cash

You got weed? Smoke it, you got dice? Roll it
You got guns? Shoot it, you got a ho? Stroke it
You got money? Spend it, you got cars? Whip 'em
You caught a bid? Do it, you got kids? Love 'em

You got weed? Smoke it, you got dice? Roll it
You got guns? Shoot it, you got a ho? Stroke it
You got money? Spend it, you got cars? Whip 'em
You caught a bid? Do it, you got kids? Love 'em

You got weed? Smoke it, you got dice? Roll it
You got guns? Shoot it, you got a ho? Stroke it
You got money? Spend it, you got cars? Whip 'em
You caught a bid? Do it, you got kids? Love 'em

You got weed? Smoke it, you got dice? Roll it
You got guns? Shoot it, you got a ho? Stroke it
You got money? Spend it, you got cars? Whip 'em
You caught a bid? Do it, you got kids? Love 'em, hug 'em

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3df8c4cb24b0b33ee6dc628682c41dfc

Shotgun Fire - Lyrics - On My Way to Church - Jim Jones

Title: Shotgun Fire
Album: On My Way to Church
Artist: Jim Jones
Composer(s): Jim Jones

{AdsenseCode:2D080010-7055-443A-8D12-2B79DDC71256}

Lyric:
Dip-Set, uh
Jones, Capo Status
Dip-Set nigga
You know the streets is what it is nigga
Watch ya step and watch ya moves

Shit, make 'em believe in this prophecy
You can see I'm tryin' to lead my democracy
To get money and rip sleeve off of my city
And slow down, then try to breeze through the projects B
And how I speeds in velocity
We came up movin' keys of that knotty B
My man caught 10, couldn't find the keys to the lobby B
The boys rushed him, 2 keys of mahogany
In my life you can't see me, not possibly
How we swoop up in Harlem, 20 Coupes
When we mobbin' 40 troops if it's problems
'Cause 1 nigga you know is a shotgun driver

Ready to dump triggers, that shotgun fire
I ain't gone front nigga I shot some guys up
Didn't kill 'em though, fuck 'em though
And they came back to my block like riders
But I'm like, "Crouching Tiger", spin, roll, crouch and fire
A fast retally, now it's cash we tally
Miami, Atlanta, fuck it we smash to Cali
Back on L.A. Ave, you know the Lennox strip
Where they Henny sip
Beef we let the semi rip

Mind on my money, my money on mind
Mind on my money, my money on mind
Mind on my money, my money on mind
You fuck wit' Dip-Set, I will press on this .9

Mind on my money, my money on mind
Mind on my money, my money on mind
Mind on my money, my money on mind
You fuck wit' my paper, I'll press on this .9

And yeah we world renowned and I might twirl through town
And in a Dip-Set mansion is where ya girl be found
How can a pearl be drowned, how can a diamond not shine
Man I'm on my G mack, I scoop up dimes all the time
They love my pimp juice, I let my crimps loose
They get a glimpse, oo, some went and cinch douche'
Scoop her feed her feed her shrimp soup
Mind fuck her, brain fuck her
Mouth screw her 'til it hurt, uh, shit

She scream, "Do me it hurt", I'll have her movin' that work
I mean two of them chirps up in her Dooney and Bourke
So ruthless it hurts, I mean I'm truly bezerk
When I scoop up my cash man, I swoop up and murk
Yeah, a trick and a bag bitch, two bricks and a bad bitch
Shit, them bitches mackin', I'm as sick as maggot
But I don't fuck wit no bitch if she ain't worth
No chips or no cabbage

Mind on my money, my money on mind
Mind on my money, my money on mind
Mind on my money, my money on mind
You fuck wit' Dip-Set, I will press on this .9

Mind on my money, my money on mind
Mind on my money, my money on mind
Mind on my money, my money on mind
You fuck wit' my paper, I'll press on this .9

I'm so problematic
And do to servin' Harlem-matics
My fame and fortune still revolve wit' static
Still involve wit' savage types that move drugs
365 all around set every nite
I ain't the passive type
On the benches where I crashed them nites
Blowin' hemp, movin' slabs of white
Spend days up in court
How I shaved weight to snort
Give that to the press or Dave Mays in the source

Yes, since success it has changed
Since we, stepped up in this game
And stepped up wit' our game
No more chef cuttin' cain
Hoes X'd up in they brain
Lemme sex up in the Range
So much princess cuts in my chains

Mind on my money, my money on mind
Mind on my money, my money on mind
Mind on my money, my money on mind
You fuck wit' Dip-Set, I will press on this .9

Mind on my money, my money on mind
Mind on my money, my money on mind
Mind on my money, my money on mind
You fuck wit' my paper, I'll press on this .9

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bb11003c2ac0a64dd747b7589a66a77f

Hong Kong Money - Lyrics - Dr. Feelgood

Title: Hong Kong Money
Artist: Dr. Feelgood
Composer(s): Lee Brilleaux, John David Martin, John Benjamin Mayo, John B Sparkes, Pete Wingfield

Lyric:
It's an eastern promise, it's a pot of gold
It's the oldest story that's ever been told, that's right
You can follow me but you gonna have to pay
Heaven's at the end of this alleyway tonight

Hong Kong money, let that dollar roll
All you need is the cash
The rest ain't nothing but trash
Hong Kong money, stole my soul

Tried hard to shake it but I guess I couldn't make it
Lord only knows it's hard on the opium run
I didn't really wanna hang around too long
Just wasn't my dish of egg fou yung no fun

Hong Kong money, let that dollar roll
Just as long as you make with the green
You'll be cool if you know what I mean
Hong Kong money, stole my soul

You can make it quick but you can lose it easy
You go in clean but you come out greasy, here's why
It's that yellow powder, it's sweet but it's sour
One false move and you can kiss this world goodbye

Hong Kong money, let that dollar roll
All you need is the cash
The rest ain't nothing but trash
Hong Kong money, stole my soul

Let it roll

Let it roll
Let it roll
Let it roll
...

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Money, Money - Lyrics - Thug World Order - Bone Thugs N Harmony

Title: Money, Money
Album: Thug World Order
Artist: Bone Thugs N Harmony
Composer(s): Steven Howse, Robinson Edward Hinson Jr., Charles Scruggs, Bryon Mccane, Anthony Henderson

Lyric:
All my life, all my life, all my life
I ain't, never had nothing

Thangs can get rough, when you live in the ghetto
You gotta survive, no matter the pain
Nigga be hurting, life'll be hurting
But nigga for certain, this is the game

Man don't let them win, never let the system think they got you
If you relentless they can't stop you let 'em hang, they gone watch you
Yeah, we the enemies of the world, won't let no territories homie
You got to get up, get out and get something, that's what they told me

Back in the days didn't have a pot to piss, went to throw it at 'em
Now I'm balling doing my damn thang, laughing at them dollas
Holla, holla, if you hear me shorty, I'ma live everyday
Like it's my last, only the winner gone get the glory

What you thought, I play for keeps
Put it down wicked in these streets
Heavily armored with the heat
Just in case a nigga want some beef

Being broke I know the feeling, that's why I'm paper chasing this cash
Better be smart and keep a stash, never know how long it's gone last
You do the math, hustling niggas multiply like mountains
Bone Thugs, Little Layzie 30 million and counting, come on

Money, money, the mighty dolla, dolla
Got to get my grind on, grind on, grind on
I don't wanna be broke no more

Money, money, the mighty dolla, dolla
Got to get my grind on, grind on, grind on
I don't wanna be broke no more

You ain't worthy, none of you niggas could stop me
And none of you niggas could hurt me
If worse come to worse, I'ma get down and dirty
Though the Ouija can't curse me, NWA

Eazy E, that's the nigga that birthed me, hey
Thug style motherfucker, live forget ends
I'd never testify, Satan can't divide my piers
No weakness inside my fears

Drop tears, for niggas that died
I'm gonna safe divide, mind gone
And I think I'm running out of time
The goddamn baby's daddy

And I'm gonna damned to hell, if I don't abide
And that's why I yell, B E N Z we ride
Straight to the corner, down to the side
In the B E N Z we

Roll around the corner with the, F O R T
S C V and a nigga can't fuck with me
Not even the devil with B O N E
T H U G, spell it motherfucker

Money, money, the mighty dolla, dolla
Got to get my grind on, grind on, grind on
I don't wanna be broke no more

Money, money, the mighty dolla, dolla
Got to get my grind on, grind on, grind on
I don't wanna be broke no more

Scandalous, straight up out of the hood type nigga
Stick ups, robberies, do we did gives a fuck nigga
See all ways to money so we mashing, we dashing
Get paid around parting give me twist a thug and I get up, in that ass

I'm here to get that money keep it coming, show me love
We made this, gotta get mine wanna slip, it's about mine
It's harder to get, I'm serious not playing that's the pay wits
The streets have come back, real fast on that ass feel me

'Cause I don't wanna be broke no more
Standing in front of the liquor store, with rocks no more
'Cause my man, never had nothing to done that
It's like reversing time on my mind, I can't go back, fuck that

Money, money, the mighty dolla, dolla
Got to get my grind on, grind on, grind on
And I don't wanna be broke no more

Money, money, the mighty dolla, dolla
Got to get my grind on, grind on, grind on
I don't wanna be broke no more

I came up a nigga that never had nothing but hard times
I was always grinding and talking up out of the hood
Into the bullshit, but I'm surviving
I got to get me some money man, put it down for the General

A nigga'd rob your ass, if I caught a nigga flossing cash
What it was four niggas and we punk niggas
But you no niggas got us scared, a couple more green
To get up for everything reach the scene, clean

And we was the niggas that stood on the block
With a couple of rocks and a glock with the cops
Can't nobody have the nuts to say our name
They call me the Dummy Man

I'm sell him a fat twenty piece and then I reach for the bomb
'Cause the things they get awfully man
Wanna see what I put them shit come
Took 'em for they last dollar, holla

Man I ain't giving a fuck it's do or die
So get on the ground, lay it down
Give me some money my nigga, pow
I ain't waiting I need it now

Ain't too much changed
I'm still on the grind in deuce double O deuce
I'm just a little more serious
'Bout my reefer and my dough
Show me the money

Money, money, the mighty dolla, dolla
Got to get my grind on, grind on, grind on
I don't wanna be broke no more

Money, money, the mighty dolla, dolla
Got to get my grind on, grind on, grind on
I don't wanna be broke no more

Let me hear you say make money, money
Make money, money, make it
Let me hear you say take money, money
Take money, money, take it

Let me hear you say make money, money
Make money, money, make it
Let me hear you say take money, money
Take money, money, take it
Take it

Dolla bill y'all, that dolla bill y'all
I gotta, gotta, gotta have that dolla bill y'all
Dolla bill y'all, that dolla bill y'all
I gotta, gotta, gotta have that dolla bill y'all

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Mommy - Lyrics - Cookbook - Missy Elliott

Title: Mommy
Album: Cookbook
Artist: Missy Elliott
Composer(s): Keith Glenn Lewis, John Thomas Pizarro, Melissa A Elliott

{AdsenseCode:2D080010-7055-443A-8D12-2B79DDC71256}

Lyric:
Please stand up
In 2005, the industry will be pussy-whipped
It won't be easy

Mommy look good, yeah mommy look right

They like mommy with the cute face, can I get a date?
Mommy got a cool shake, mommy make 'em wait
Papi havin' trouble tryin' to keep up the pace
Mommy got the faith I let my pussy be the bait

Mommy got that good shit, that really good shit
The type of chick you get with, that really good shit
Mommy got them niggaz goin' crazy for the ass
Call me Flash, make a dash, get a nigga for his cash

Mommy nuck and buck with a quick uppercut
Mommy sport shell toes, I put my Nike's up
I used to dress D-boy, now I dress girly
Wake up real early with my braids lookin' curly

Mommy let 'em know who she is, what she 'bout
Yeah she 'bout money, mommy turnin' niggaz out
Mommy got bills, car sit on big wheels
In the club mommy chill while them haters ice grill

Mommy cute like Fendi suits
Mommy fresh these my real breasts
Mommy sex 'cause mommy groan
Mommy be that good shit at home

Mommy, mommy, mommy, mommy
Damn mommy, roll like armies
Mommy ass like a Cadillac
Mommy give 'em heart attacks

They call me lil' momma lookin' big in my Hummer
Momma on the corner, lil' momma be a stunner
Fly to the Hummer quick faster than a runner
Foot on the gas, vroom, engine gunner

Mommy look good, yeah mommy look right
Mommy stay hood, mommy be yo' type
Mommy get excited, mommy ask you to bite it
Mommy know you like it, tell papi don't fight it

Capital M O M M Y
Mommy got 'em pussed, take any chick guy
Mommy got a deal, mommy spit shit real
Mommy give 'em chills when she wear high heels

Mommy get the money, get the money, get the money
Mommy find a man who can go and get it for me
Mommy look fresh in Respect Me sweats
Stay best dressed, showin' off my breasts

Mommy cute like Fendi suits
Mommy fresh these my real breasts
Mommy sex 'cause mommy groan
Mommy be that good shit at home

Mommy, mommy, mommy, mommy
Damn mommy, roll like armies
Mommy ass like a Cadillac
Mommy give 'em heart attacks

Mommy get the, get the money, money, get the money, get the money
Mommy get the, get the money, money, get the money, get the money
Mommy get the, get the money, get the money, money
Get the money, get the money, get the money, money, money

Yeah mommy get buck like whoa lil' momma
Back it up like whoa lil' momma
When she shake it like whoa lil' momma
She get naked like hold up momma

Mommy be a freak, mommy let the world know
Mommy want 'em lickin' from her head to her toe
If papi say no then lil' papi gotta go
If he broke no no mommy kick him out the do'

Mommy cute like Fendi suits
Mommy fresh these my real breasts
Mommy sex 'cause mommy groan
Mommy be that good shit at home

Mommy, mommy, mommy, mommy
Damn mommy, roll like armies
Mommy ass like a Cadillac
Mommy give 'em heart attacks

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