Lyrics:
sad, I need to make some cash
"Money, get the money!"
Make some cash, make some cash
"Me and you Ty we gonna make some cash" -> Slick Rick
Make
And now we've come to that time
Where the legend of Griselda lives forever (ah)
The Butcher comin', nigga
Ayo, y'all niggas should know by now
Up, Pop 'Em Up
Watch 'em bleed to death
Ya played with the Tec-9 now ya takin' yo last breath
Pop 'Em Up, Pop 'Em Up
Watch 'em bleed to death
can't trust these niggas uno!
Cash! You already know, nigga
Money bags, nigga money bags, nigga
No, we cannot hang if you a stain
What you want
Blockwork TV
CHI
Eyes don't eye
Bop Bop Bop
Ri
It's kosfinger baby
Yo
I'm with blockwork told him to give me a min for me to just flip this
the nigga they point to when you hit my av
So get all your money together, come and get my slabs
I get my cash, put some aside, and flip like half
ol' fly shit out
Word up
(Cash Rules Everything Around Me) Take you on a natural joint
(C.R.E.A.M. get the money) Here we here we go
(Dolla dolla
ol' fly shit out
Word up
(Cash Rules Everything Around Me) Take you on a natural joint
(C.R.E.A.M. get the money) Here we here we go
(Dolla dolla
Pay me respect cash money no check
Fly as a jet I got a switch on the tec
Stay wit the muscle
They just wan see me flex
Shooting my shot swish
That's
high, strung, thug nigga created by pain
Livin' my life in the fast lane, give a fuck 'bout the past
Got my mind on my cash and my next piece of ass, so
the clear
So watch yo back mutherfucker 'cause I'm creepin' up on ya from the rear
First Verse
{Tec-9}
I'm sick of them mutherfuckers with that ho shit
Make
Yeah, yeah what y'all wanna do?
What y'all wanna do? C-l, ip, s-e, n-e-r-d
What y'all wanna do?
My coke money's in cleaners
Give it a fresh rinse
car, Im sippin on barre, TV VCR
With the star
She come through, she know that I got car
Ima do
I got to show the 6 X 9
Gots to show
Watch that boy be
(Ride) Young Money, Cash Money
(Woo) C'mon Akon, let's go
I got a nine millimeter (get it)
Ready to go off any minute so you feel it (bah, bah)
no drive-by's
We walked over
COB bandana tied to the end of the AR
Iller than they are, rhymes so sick
Give 'em the day off
This is the chaos, Nicolas
the fast lane
Gettin' fucked by the past
Got my mind on my cash
And my next piece of ass, so fuck 'em all!
(That's right, bitch, fuck 'em all)
Come put your
hected for dope
So I'ma pull out the gat and let the tec-9 smoke
Where my hustlers at
Where my hustlers at
I said now where my hustlers at
Where my
made a money movie
I feel like Tom Cruise nigga
Moving the cash, Brinxx
Foot on the gas, Brinxx
Bullet proof glass, Brinxx
F&N under the dash Brinxx
homies
Joey Fatts might blast for me
Tote the tecs I got cash homie
Take it back I got crack on me
This and that got that on me
Where you from?
Where
Vacations like Jason
You'll get cut in half and
Left with your heart racin'
By the TEC you'll get smashed
Together like a cleavage
And left a mystery like
Draw down with that Tec and bleed
I'm rockin' v-neck with V's (VVS's)
I pull up with a bitch and let her rip it real rapid
We live by the codes
dream
She thinks it's 1982
Jesús pull up, I pull up
Then we pop trunks and switcharoo
Got that Tec-9 with the coo
And it might knock you out your shoes,
and Baby take the right
Its dark in the room, we hold up our watches and its light
Cash Money millionaires living a hell of a life
Like my nigga weezay
Vacations like Jason
You'll get cut in half and
Left with your heart racin'
By the TEC you'll get smashed
Together like a cleavage
And left a mystery like
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