Lyrics:
slippers is clean
All I wear Tru Religion
I paid a grip for them jeans
I got a lust for the cream
I need a money machine
I need a money machine
I need
is clean
All I wear Tru Religion
I paid a grip for them jeans
I got a lust for the cream
I need a money machine
I need a money machine
I need a money
I'm kway kway far away
Serving shots like I'm a barmaid
Putting copper in this machine
It just feels like I'm in an arcade
Need a bad girl like sharnay
[Hook: 10 AM]
Money Machine ( aye)
Money machine (aye)
Look at me like a money machine
(look at me)
Look at my drip and it's so clean (yeah)
And i
needle, off the gauge,
Feed it to me, high octane
Push my pedal to the floor
High performance give me more
Speed machine, she’s a weapon
Down to drive yeah
Are you a pilot
Are you a pilot of your earth machine
Are you a pilot of your earth machine
Steering the ship to where no-ones been
Fighting
Stay cold stay cold
Acting like machines
Void of emotion
Checking the gaps inside my brain
Never ending suffocation
When I see myself it rains
Same old
you're checking your 6 bitch
One batch two batch penny and a dime
I gotta calm my nerves so I can say what's on my mind
I gotta speak in rhymes, copped up
"You know we got em
Forty fives, machine guns, heavy artillery
We got those grenades on your ass, nigga
Boss, Black Wall Street
I'm in that
"You know we got em
Forty fives, machine guns, heavy artillery
We got those grenades on your ass, nigga
Boss, Black Wall Street
I'm in that
out a lane
A avenue to go get paid
Big lights on the center stage
Got the duffel bag full of paper lay
Cross the back seat like a 12 gauge
Now I
Flying on my time machine
They just played me through the speaker
I was riding through their era
Everything I make its like a time machine
they just
been ignored"
"I, I like the, the feeling of, of the machine gun in my hands"
(Aaahhh.)
"you know, I, I
like the, the feeling of, of the machine gun
to the left and checking on your phone
What you think that says to me?
You don’t really care for me! (noup)
My eyes are like a lie machine
I know you trynna
up some niggaz from the 5th Ward
And came back with a motherfuckin' hit squad
Motherfuckin' uzi machine
Big Chief packed an M-16
Will and AK
down and no ones taking off this home from home with a wave machine
No one's checking out and so I check in aerodrome motel for a lucid dream
No one's
a scrub
Free my brother
By the way of a cage
Speed racing
I ain’t checking the gauge
Money ,power, evil
Really the same
I got bitches
Tryna burry my name
I'm not a man, I'm a machine
Chisel me down until I am clean
I buy books I never read
And then I'll tell you some more about me
Beneath
down a homicide
Forty-five colt firearm, Remington sixteen guage shot gun
Two of them ultra-light machine bombers, AR fifteen and Tommy guns
Ready
Fourteen and over LOG?s and YG?s ready to put down a homicide
Forty-five colt firearm, Remington sixteen gauge shot gun
Two of them ultra-light machine
bridges to my past ain’t Got no time machine
Don’t take no shit so I guess I keep My circle clean
Level up level up
I’m pourin my drink in my double
Cup
My eyes are like a lie machine
I know you try to hide from me
I don't know why you lie to me
I wish you would comfy to me, I tried
My eyes are like
I'm winding up the motor
Revving up the engine
Checking that the tank is full
I'm pushing down the pedals
Mixing up the diesel
Windows down to keep
four makes eight
Nine times outta' ten its an eleven or a twelve gauge
Friday the 13th that's the day that hell raised
But y'all boys too weak like
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