Lyrics:
Tell my haters I'm sorry (I'm sorry)
I'm sorry (I'm sorry) , I'm sorry (I'm sorry)
I'm sorry, I just keep gettin money
(get money) get money
(get
While you was focused on them bitches (you was focused on them bitches)
I was trying to get my money up
While you was hanging with them niggas
Robert Williams smack that hoe!
Ain't no Chris Breezy, everything i do real easy
Go by the palm tree's that shits really breezy, no hurricane
The doc hit
you a brick like a dog a bone (Bone)
Oh like then I go (Go)
Ran down the street like William Defoe (William Defoe)
Got nine glocks that's what I tote
Someone's out to get me when I haven't done shit wrong
My head felt swoll, mista couldn't see past my mouth
What route did you take man
Caught me by that
Sherwin Williams
I done plugged my name all in the city like a colonizer
That has taken years and everyday I get a little wiser
Sometimes I be
them badges, you get dealt with the maggots
Heard drive-bys everyday
Seen homies die early age, though we still gang bang anyway
Uh, yeah, uh, Figg
WILLIAMS KEEP CALLIN BUT I'm TRYING TO MISS HER
SORRY LOVE I'm JUST TRYIN TO SERVE UP YOUR SISTER
SOME SAY LISA RAE SOME SAY NONA GAYE
I SAY OKAY that's TWO
Hey, what's up now, y'all
Hey, man, get your motherfuckin' hand out my pocket
Hey, y'all, chill the fuck out before I come over there
Ladies
If you're not having any luck with the girls
You need to step into the spotlight world
Watch some movies with Steve McQueen
Get some music by BB King
They undermine your grind
Cause they couldn't grind with you
Even if you down to ride
I can't even ride with you
See how they try to get you
On their
on our mind like
Niggas out here stressing
Boy if you don't get your ass to work
Get this money now, get that paper
Have some fun
Cause when it's too late,
Georgia with it
Last verse, did you get it? Nah
Never mind, just throw that cash in a duffle
As I'm on my Hollywood shuffle
Eatin' your dollar truffles,
at me
I blend in with the best of them
Shooters and robbers
I'm on that william shit
I black your eye for blogging
What the fuck is the problem?
Violence
bitch, you need to run and go get your frigity-friends
I'm looking at your bum-stickity-bum, hun
The mickity mack's bickity back, don't act wickity-wack
even get mad, it wasn't expected from the baddest girl around town
I paged you early in the day, by 10:30 have it all locked down
What you did to me
Williams), Maharishi, DPMHI
Shout to Harley Bleckmen, Damien, and my big brother Nash Money Dollars
Alex, shout out to mag the over Slammin' Kicks, Dough
are way behind
I know what's mine, fuck what's yours
Fuck fake streams I wanna sell out tours
That's where the money at
But fuck the money I want
Make plans with your crime family
Get money money, take money money
Get money money, take money money
By age 19 Tyheim is turned out
He ain't talkin'
(Fresh out the bank)
(Ooh, ooh)
(Ooh) fresh out the bank
I do my lil' bop, I don't know how to dance
I gotta get it, I'ma champ
I gotta give
Train
Tookie Williams over Coltrane
Eric B by the rope chain
R-S-C, we fosho bang
Tiny Locs and they go crazy
What you know about the dope game?
Was
by William Loren Katz
Take it back anything by Dr cornel West
You need to go get that
Michael Eric Dyson, all his books
Go get all of that
Henry Louis
the rage
Your eyes still say that you love
Been knowing you since you birth
Never thought it would get this ugly
Ain't spoke to you in some months
Hope your
The boy got swag
You can see I'm getting cash
Everything I really want
Man a young nigga have
I get money I'm a money machine
Where's my money I'm
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