Lyrics:
Then Get the fuck off my testicles.
On the race track on my victory run.
Tony Montana/I do this for fun.
Mama sita/the one with the gun
Like Wiz
clean an' build a world.
A system of privilege and patrons only for the Eto-Oxfordians!
I got no money 'cos it's all spent,
Paying my bills, up by forty
spreaded throughout my crew
Well, you all know TJ Swan who sang on my records
"Make the Music", "Nobody Beats the Biz", well, check it
Back in the days
You need fitness, nigga
Ridiculous how I spit this
Off the tip, tip, of my high
Get my dick tip sucked by your thot
On my cot on the cot, on my yacht
on a plane
I feel like I'm alien man I'm so high up
I'm higher than every alien
Went from open mic to
Performing in the stadiums now all my shoes
They
sweet
I know about grafting
I had food up in my butt cheeks
Plus I built a monk line
That rings like a cunch line
Made my re-up Ps back and
It ain't even
Hating, waiting
Hey boy they shout - have you got any money?
And I said - Ive a little money and a take away curry,
Im on my way home to my wife.
Shell
but I don't french kiss"
She just laughed, then got undressed
But I wasn't doing one damn thing, unless
I can find my Jimmy hats
So I looked in
that Nigga
Getting served by yo bih
We be murkin'
Money macking Murderers in this Bih
I know you heard about that Nigga.
Said words about that Nigga
It
Freedom comes from the call
But that's not what this bitch wants
Not what I want at all
I want money, power and glory
I want money and all your power, all
shoes
Gotta find somebody take away my blues
Well she don't love me when I'm singin' in the sun
Payday's comin' when the work is all done
Well now
real
Coke, dope, pills, it's no joke here
Everybody strapped, look at where I'm at (blatt-blatt)
Nigga, shit's so real, it's no doubt about it
All
take her to eat french fries, chicken fingers aye
Smoke al lot got a permanent cough
All the time i wanna knock it off
Without the feeling i be feeling
Sing us the song of the century
That sings like American eulogy
The dawn of my love and conspiracy
Forgotten hope and the class of 13
Tell me
the club, to rub-a-dub
It seems like all the little hoes fall in love
With my money, cause yo about a year ago
I was just your ordinary average everyday crazy
Yo (damn) Young Buck where my money at man
My niggas is playing what nobody
In here but you, spyder and Mase
There's supposed to be three
Hundred
on the floor
I thought about it, man im way too fly
To have a fella robbin me outside
Thats why i keep that thing by my side
And down every blessin while im
My definition of a real playa
A man that lives with principle
And Money on his mind all the time
Nothing else can distract me
Honies fall for my
well, you get knocked out, hah
I'm wit' the shit you know that you are not 'bout
Old nigga wit' some long money, nigga try me, I'ma get it all from ya
for anybody perpin
Leave in a hearse for certain
Blood on the curb and bandages like turbans
We roll a ?durbin?
All in this dirt, puffin the herb an'
we
balmains
Niggas said I changed cause I ball man
French tips for my French chick
I felt humble on my last trip
Felt trigger happy went and copped the grip
just likes to trade me
I am a lost boy, from Neverland
At an all time low
Think about everything and how it will go
Thinking about how i will choose
You stole my money honey
You're cold your blood's stopped running
And know you're buying your new life
Can't help but find you funny
The clothes
Montana
I got banana clips on all of my flamers
If they book me I ain't giving no answers
I just keep getting money like dancers
Committed not addicted I'm
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