Lyrics:
her man name was Pimp Daddy Hustler Stack Money
A big time drug dealer from around the way
Slingin' rocks, makin' G's everyday
He drove a big fat
a land by the sand, grab the money
Plastic the life, end of the century
People actin' fake can't see the omens
Wake up yourself â??cause change is
to makin' beats, I'm the MVP
I'm the main motherfucker, you're an NPC
Got 'em full of envy, the boy from M.D
Destroyed what I see, deploy, then I be
ain't makin no money, ya'll ain't makin no money
Ya'll ain't really doin nothin, ya'll ain't thuggin, ya'll stuntin
Ya'll ain't makin no money, ya'll
[Chorus]
Said I ain't got time
Got no time to stop & speak 2 friends passing by
Said I ain't got time
Got no time to stop & speak 2 friends
money in a duffle bag
Fuck 'em all, wet 'em and we gotta double back
The homie whippin' chickens in his momma kitchen
On the mission, said he get it
And hustlin hard, countin money by the sack
Watch my back, niggas jack
Sweet revenge, counter attack up in my 'lac
Sippin hennesy and chronic, I'm the tweak for
The principles of true hip-hop have been forsaken
It's all contractual and about money makin'
Pretend-to-be cats don't seem to know they limitation
Exact
[Wayne] What!
[Baby]
y'all got to understand
We got this shit on lock, wodie
If you ain't makin' money you ain't doin' what you suppose to
I
[Snoop Dogg]
Eastside
Yeah
Fell good we got homeboyz out there that look out for
That's on the real
I mean the real homeboy it's hard to come by
bitch in baguette
A bougie bitch, I'ma a street nigga, treat her like she nothin'
Makin' movies nigga, makin' money rain like confetti
We need beams
uh, I ought to make it by sundown,
I figure that's enough time for me to get the whole rundown,
So I continue my mission, it's gettin' dark
So now I'm
money in a duffle bag
Fuck 'em all, wet 'em and we gotta double back
The homie whippin' chickens in his momma kitchen
On the mission, said he get it
that style, deter-iate, rapidly
Uncompleted missions, throwin' your best known compositions
You couldn't add it up, if you mastered addition
Where I
Overworked, underpaid, was a fact for me
But I had to get the money right
Cause the money was tighter than a skirt on a hooker
Then I took a look around
Seen my
yeah)
Did a lotta shit in my life, but I never changed (yeach, check)
Two-hunnid for the Patek and it's all plain (ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy)
on lock
The trunk stay locked
Glock on cock
The block stay hot
Well there ain't no mistaken
That the money you're makin'
Leaves you nervous
I line the money up
Like bagged chips
My cash flip
Touching more paper
Than cashiers
Don't ask me
How I got these two chainz
Dope sells itself
Come
Blowin some high-tech shit
Through your projects
Makin' whatever was in my way easy to di-tect
I wrecks guys
Over money gone Saratoga son
The principles of true hip-hop have been forsaken
It's all contractual and about money makin'
Pretend-to-be cats don't seem to know they limitation
Exact
it...
Now I come from, the Oakland town
Task force roll and rock, cold cracked down
Young brothers my age makin' dollars so long
Drive a brand new
shit
Two hundred pounds of Kush, I'm tryna sell that shit
My migo said fuck it, he gon' mail the brick
Soon as I get my hands on it, I'm gonna sell
the way we move, so man up if you can't adjust
You may end up gettin' rushed by too many to handle us (ha)
It's funny, I guess money does have its
on, let's get that money
It's two o'clock and I'm just about to hit the street
'Til I knock off this rock I don't get to eat
Sometimes that's like
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