Lyrics:
bird on me
Nothin' to be specific
Ice, ice, ice like I jumped in the Pacific
Money, money, money
Man that shit comin' in digit's
I got 50 cents on me
50 tho
I rather spend my time thumbing thru a nice bank roll
Do you feel me, though I can't stress bout any ho
I’m Quick to tell a bitch, get loss like
gotta die, I'd rather homicide
I ain't have fifty cent when my grandmama died
Now I'm goin' back to Cali with my Jacob on, see how time fly?
Hate it
bikes
Fifty cal grip I think your type like
(Fifty call I think it your type)
Get money it just one way
We ain't never catchin' two flights like
(We ain't
tips
But I never had a big bank, not back then
I kicked back and watched all my friends
Make big money, right in my face
And if you ever crossed
50 Cent, Lloyd Banks, Young Buck
Game gggggggg Unit!
See I'm a city boy man I ain't from the South
50 Cent man ya'll niggas ya'll
Know what I
told me how to go get the money real quick
I got it up cause I ain't have a cent
I'm way too up now to die for my sins
I'm way too up bitch it don't make
a foreign whip
My trap boomin' like Bloomingdale's
A long line like you at the Ritz
Got bank like Lloyd, Yayo like Tony
But won't give you 50 cent
Red rubies
Predicting the moment
I be coming to get him
Depicted, convicted
Of more than treason
Give me one reason
Not to leave these motherfuckers
Straight bleeding
money by Monday ain't got no time for waiting
Puttin down like 50 cent I been power trippin maybe
These hoe ass niggas be selling dreams
Had the same
to the business
? break it down, sell nickels
Had to ball him out of jail, blew the money on the bail
When flat, bounced back from a 30-cent flipper
I don't even
another knot
Keep your bank on swolle and your honey in the pot, bitch
Because I can back it I can't help but talk shit
Feeling like 50 Cent when he
I gotta die, I'd rather homicide
I ain't have 50 Cent when my grandmama died
Now I'm goin' back to Cali with my Jacob on
See how time fly?
Hate
What, wha, wha, wha, wha
What, wha, wha, wha, wha
Cash Mo-ney Millionairs
So take it there
Yellow Viper, yellow Hummer, Yellow Benz
Yellow PT
What, wha, wha, wha, wha
What, wha, wha, wha, wha
Cash Mo-ney Millionairs
So take it there
Yellow Viper, yellow Hummer, Yellow Benz
Yellow PT
Pull up with the bands I dance away.
[Chorus]
Money, money coming in, bank teller call me by first name eh
I ain't famous but the green got me fame eh,
niggaz are hard plus we all crazy
Wishing I can be a peaceful man and, hoping that the Lord save me
Fuck a nigga named 50 Cent, you nothing but change
feed (bahk bakh)
(a) Lil' dick and weed (bahk bakh)
Everything that a chicken need (bahk bakh)
Tryin' to pot I get real as Chris Rock
Make a bitch
Som' for the hood, ya know, yeah
Nuttin' crazy, little som' som'
Yeah, 50 Cent, G-Unit Radio
I sit and twist the lye just to get high
Niggas is
to me
I be rollin' around blowin'
QP's, bout 2 G's, and a hawk with me
So you run up, you get gunned up
Had 'em fifties blowin' 'till the sun up
If yo
your ankles
Make it clap for me for this bank roll
I’ll gladly poke on that pink hole
Front to leaves I'm straight backwoods
Hit my weed and I own you
you knew I was goin' to bust a move (brr)
I'm drippin' mud on my shoes, yeah, I got slatts by the twos
Put Chanel and Jimmy Choos, I don't play by
the pot
Take over like 2k, I'm hot
All this money I'm spending a lot
Hey huh (Yea), hey hey
Fifty ball I might cuddle my wrist
I went alias, I'm out
Bank
Bank
We gon go get all this bank
We gon go get it today
40 stay on me I spray
Today
Today
We gon go get all the money
Pop the driver my VLONE
Discuss these i get money straight to the bank pt 2 by 50 cent Lyrics with the community:
Report Comment
We're doing our best to make sure our content is useful, accurate and safe.
If by any chance you spot an inappropriate comment while navigating through our website please use this form to let us know, and we'll take care of it shortly.
Attachment
You need to be logged in to favorite.
Log In