Lyrics:
Yo SourMilk, what up brah justin Credible
I hear you on the radio every night brah
This one for LA leakers, turn me up
Shit, nigga don't be always
about yo money
Hit my line we need to link
I done seen so many phonies
I deal with it by my lonely
All this talking need to stop
If you with it you
make sure my casket's closed
Rap critics that say he's Money, Cash, Hoes
I'm from the hood stupid
What type of facts are those
If you grew up with holes
wanna come back and cut your throat when you ain't lookin'
What is money?
Money is what makes a man act funny
Money is the root of all evil
Money
The afternoon has gently passed me by
The evening spreads its sail against the sky
Waiting for tomorrow
It's just another day
God bid yesterday
from the studio, to the club and the video, and the radio in stereo
And they acting like they dont hear me tho
I'm young black and Im paid
This money
the flow and die
When I walk by say hi to the bad guy
Ayo man, there's just one left
(I'll make a deal with ya)
What? (Ah, ya got one of those
of business
Are you doing? What's
The numbers? How much did you sell? What's
The radio spins? How much
Shampoo can you sell
With your face on it and shit?
they ass
Runnin' to the radio
And the tv issues and views
Shaped by one sided news
Got us like
Planet of the apes
Under cds and tapes
Preachy
of creflo
Like how the hell he supposed to know
I see they ass
Runnin to the radio
And the tv issues and views
Shaped by one sided news
Got us like
Planet
like bruh man
I am leader of the new school
I am the mascot for havenots
And judging by the looks of the bullshit
Im guess you deserve what cha ass got
to the core yeah we know
Yeah we all know
The man on the radio, he's pretty smart
Making lots of money, twisting facts his art
Once he figured out it ain't all
that's mine
cll the time
Pulled out a surprise
Shock in all their eyes
In a cell
Got in by mistake
clmost cost my life
How would i get a job
If ma prints
already know
(i didn't do it)
Dat dis some real shit man
Unladylike radio
See gunnnin got da club like
(iy crumba)
So get your ass on the mutha fukin dance
Ain't got that much to show for it
Still had to sell my soul for it, just to get by
Uh, I woulda been dropping out days
Man I can't even think clearly
you're wild
Tone down your style
The radio jocks are all pop
So how the fuck this nigga know what shit to rock?
The shit that make your face turn
Bitch, take a look at the zip and don't flop (flop)
She bouncin' on my dick, man, this bitch got hops (hops)
Ah, money in my palm, and her pussy got my
I can't be wrong
I'm a perfect imperfection and I don't find interest in the radio
So everytime I get high I watch the time pass by like away we go
Is
I just wanna stay inside
Stay hmmm
DiYoute
ODG
I just wanna stay, inside
Don't listen to radio no more
Cause every time I put it on I get some bad
I'm sitting by the side of a river
Underneath the pale blue sky
I've got no need to worry, I'm in no hurry
I'm looking at the world go by
Wanted to be an artist i
Was of course inspired
By Debbie Harry and Chrissie
Hynde and Aretha Franklin
But my real muse was David
Bowie he embodied male
Top
They Kno We Run The Streetz Man Them Boys Betta Stop
U Kno We Keep That White Girl, Christina Aguilara
My Jewelry 2 Loud Homeboy I Cant Hear Ya
I
crummy man
We got to get this money man
(New houses), {got, got to get it}
(Real figures by the thousands), {got, got to get it}
(Big stacks for
it to the first floor faggot
No real money, one and a third
But the brother's gonna get, as high as a bird
Bell bottoms, yes the man invented
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