Lyrics:
a Goonie
I got that duffle bag on me and it's Louie
I'm 'bout to do the whole dash out here grindin', grindin'
I got three mil all in jewelry, go ask
Talkin' big money, bitch, uh
That little shit you talkin' 'bout
That's lunch money
We don't even smoke that
And this shit gon' be like this for
throw me my keys
Ain't even askin me yo is it coochie or G's
And for that reason now you can ask me for anything
Not a for real smoker but you choke with
on me tell the world 'bout me
Ask your girl about me, she probably tell you that I
Put it down!
Put it down!
You know how I put it down!
Put it down!
So she won't be snorin' in my face
And when I ask her for some money
To go out on the town
I want you to hand it to me smilin'
And don't you have no
me again I'll tell you the same
Persuaded by one sexy dame
No I do not feel no shame
You are on the road
Can I get a little lovin' from you
Can
Don't you worry 'bout me speaking, I'll pass you right on by
This world is full of money, but I haven't got a dime
Had a million heartaches, but I'm
I told you why I changed my mind
I got bored by playing with time
I know you thought you had me nailed
But I've freed my head from your garden
, money, money, money, money ain't the motive
What's your name again? Nobody knows it
Don't speak to me nigga, you not important
I'm focused
They say I'm
Pulled a pussy move on me and left me on a lack
They like JT you don't even get no fucking stacks
They like JT you can't even motherfucking rap
They like
inside
But money don't make me happy
Just put aside my pride
You say you want a better life
Till you make it to the top and still cry
How you gon' tell me
This is reality no play dumb dumb
Some a them a thing 'bout dollars having a large sum
Money is the root of all evil if so me no want none
Wicked man
Presidential, maybe I should run
Still get 'em by the ton, sixty-five three times a month
Bag, what you doin'? Baggin', baggin'
2020 McLaren, Moe got me
the goonies with me
Never leave the crib without mine
And no, I ain't talkin ya gang
When I say I'm bout signs
I'm talkin dollars, guy
Here's what you should
To decline this call, hang up (Out the city)
Yeah, QC be the clique and we winnin' (QC)
Me and JT the realest bitches in it (Free JT)
'Cause Lord knows that I
have the money
Or if you're a friend to me
But the one man band
By the quick lunch stand
He was playing real good, for free
Nobody stopped to hear
The only way, for me to come back, is by makaveli
That's it! all these motherfuckers stole from me
I'm takin' back what's mine
Laughing you
I'm the fuckin' man, y'all don't get it, do you?
Type of money, everybody actin' like they knew you
Go Uptown, New York City, bitch
Them Spanish
wish you would do me one last favor and do it just for me
When they ask you, "Momma ain't that Daddy?"
Just say "It used to be"
the streets
But I put it on my mind
By the time I was nine
Look here nigga I was slangin' that nine
Now them them don't want us
They know me and Turk don't
here's your chance
Doin' eighty on the freeway, police, catch me if you can
Forgive me, I'm a rider, still, I'm just a simple man
All I want is money
Good good time boys make me feel good
Give me good times yea yea yea yea
If you don't believe me you can ask john doe
'Cause his heart is made
sent it
Don't hit me wit a "Hey"
Ima just ask how the neck jt
I gotta alot of shit to say
Ima go and make em pay
Put money on his grave
They might go
yelling out money over everything, money on my mind
Then she wanna ask when it got so empty
Tell her I apologize, it happened over time
She says they
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