Get Money - Radio Edit

Lyrics

Get money
 Get money
 Get money
 Get money
 Get money
 Get money
 You wanna sip mo' on my living room flo'
 Play Nintendo with cease a Leo
 Pick up my phone say "Poppa not home"
 Sex all night mad head in the morn'
 Spin my V, smoke all my weed
 Tattoo on sayin' B I G, now check it
 You wanna be my main squeeze baby
 Don'tcha, you wanna gimme what I need baby
 Won'tcha, picture life as my wife just think
 Full length mink, fat X and O links
 Bracelets to match, conversation was all that
 Showed you the safe combinations and all that
 Guess you could say you's the one I trusted
 Who would ever think that you would spread like mustard?
 Got hot, you sent feds to my spot
 Took me to court, tried to take all I got
 'Nother intricate plot, the bitch said, "I raped her"
 Damn, why she wanna stick me for my paper?
 My mo-sci-no, my ver-sa-ce hottie
 Come to find out, you was everybody
 You knew about me, the fake ID
 Cases in Virginia, body in D.C
 Woe, oh is me, that's what I get for trickin'
 Pay my own bail, commence to kickin'
 Lick in the door, wavin' the four-four
 All you heard was, poppa don't hit me no more
 Disrespect my click, my imperial
 Fuck around and made her milk box material
 You feel me? suckin', runnin' your lips
 'Cause of you, I'm on some real
 Get money
 Get money
 Get money
 Get money
 Get money
 Get money
 Get money
 Get money
 Betta grab a seat grab on your as this gets deep
 Deeper than the of a six feet
 Stiff feel sweet in this little petite
 Young from the street, guaranteed to stay down
 Used to bring work outta town on Greyhound
 Now I'm Billboard now, press to hit it
 Play me like a chicken, thinkin' I'm pressed to get it
 Rather do the killin' than the stick up jooks
 Or rather count a million while you eat my
 Push me to the limit get my feelings in it
 Get me open while I'm cummin' down your throat
 You wanna be my main squeeze
 Don'tcha, you wanna lick between my knees
 Don'tcha wanna see me whippin' your three down the Ave
 Blow up spots on because I'm mad
 Break up affairs lick shots in the air
 You get vexed, and start swingin' everywhere
 Me shifty now you wanna pistol whip me?
 Pull out your nine, while I cock on mine
 Yeah what? I ain't got time for this
 So what? I'm not tryin' to hear that
 Now you wanna buy me diamonds and Armani suits
 Adia Vinadini and Chanel lime boots
 Things that make up, for all the games and the lies
 Hallmark cards, sayin, "I apologize"
 Is you with me how could you ever deceive me?
 But payback's a, believe me
 Naw I ain't gay this ain't no flow
 Just a little somethin', to let you motherfucker know
 Get money
 Get money
 Get money
 ...
 

Audio Features

Song Details

Duration
03:50
Key
7
Tempo
92 BPM

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