Bambu, Rocky Rivera - Rent Money lyrics
[Bambu, Rocky Rivera - Rent Money lyrics]
Chops on the track!
I could fight like Cung Lee with my old ass
Putting bullets in my own ain’t
Why I tote klacks
That’s for infiltrators tryna see me put down
Mad cuz they can’t get in the club
Look at me now
Out in Daygo in the southeast lamping out
Dark skinned southeast Asian girls
With their hair down
Holding back their big brothers in the lot
Scrappin'
We from war torn third-world countries
What’s happenin? I could show you what it
Means to be in poverty
Where half a slice of bread is
Worth a strong arm robbery
Rubber slippers fuck the Jordans on your feet
Smack a politician sample the
Slap into a beat
If it ain’t bout us tryna eat
Might as well not even speak
Lotta shit I don’t like, so I Chief Keef
Fuck the chief of police
Insert whatever city
Mountain Brother with a platoon of
Guerillas ridin with me
My comrades don’t fold, pop shit, get throwed
When it come to politicking all the
Homies need to know is get money, rent money
Get money, food money
Get money, school money
Stop taking shit from me
I can scrap like Rhonda Rousey
With my short ass
Armbar in the first round, know that
These little birds wanna chirp non-stop
But when I come around you
Could hear a pin drop
Self made prodigy, underground armories
One woman army
Ain’t no politician stopping me
Mad stripes like I’m Blues Clues
And all my bad girls, hit em with that voodoo
Want your country back? It
Don’t belong to you
And tell your god to go fuck
Himself cause I’m on to you
I’m a heathen who’s lucky I’m even breathing
Believe in what you believe in
But money's never the reason
But, if the money comes who am I to say
"No"?
I been struggling for years on that pay roll
So all my soldiers get bucked when I say so
Stick em for the yen, roopies, and they pesos
Chops
Progressive with the flow and I ensure that
Never a Trotskyite
Sondolomite or confused cat
Always working class in all my doings
And I'm doing music trying to
Stay attached through my students
Cee and Lauren getting older
Little Micah birthed a soldier
Aldo, Rem G, X The UV getting colder
With every word that they pen
As long as truth for it stems
Progress, forward motion, minor scrimmage
Never bend pescatarian and my diet's seafood
When I'm grubbing brah
Soon though I'ma have to cut the fish
Like Jerry bust a terrorist
And I ain't found a god that I believe in
And every man they tell me is
Holy as a human being bambu, yeah I be him
One rifle a minimum sacrificing morals
Trying to keep somebody feeding him
Never been my MO
Now Dunney Low he a thoroughbred
Pouring out some coffee on the curb
Trying to wake the dead
I could fight like Cung Lee with my old ass
Putting bullets in my own ain’t
Why I tote klacks
That’s for infiltrators tryna see me put down
Mad cuz they can’t get in the club
Look at me now
Out in Daygo in the southeast lamping out
Dark skinned southeast Asian girls
With their hair down
Holding back their big brothers in the lot
Scrappin'
We from war torn third-world countries
What’s happenin? I could show you what it
Means to be in poverty
Where half a slice of bread is
Worth a strong arm robbery
Rubber slippers fuck the Jordans on your feet
Smack a politician sample the
Slap into a beat
If it ain’t bout us tryna eat
Might as well not even speak
Lotta shit I don’t like, so I Chief Keef
Fuck the chief of police
Insert whatever city
Mountain Brother with a platoon of
Guerillas ridin with me
My comrades don’t fold, pop shit, get throwed
When it come to politicking all the
Homies need to know is get money, rent money
Get money, food money
Get money, school money
Stop taking shit from me
I can scrap like Rhonda Rousey
With my short ass
Armbar in the first round, know that
These little birds wanna chirp non-stop
But when I come around you
Could hear a pin drop
Self made prodigy, underground armories
One woman army
Ain’t no politician stopping me
Mad stripes like I’m Blues Clues
And all my bad girls, hit em with that voodoo
Want your country back? It
Don’t belong to you
And tell your god to go fuck
Himself cause I’m on to you
I’m a heathen who’s lucky I’m even breathing
Believe in what you believe in
But money's never the reason
But, if the money comes who am I to say
"No"?
I been struggling for years on that pay roll
So all my soldiers get bucked when I say so
Stick em for the yen, roopies, and they pesos
Chops
Progressive with the flow and I ensure that
Never a Trotskyite
Sondolomite or confused cat
Always working class in all my doings
And I'm doing music trying to
Stay attached through my students
Cee and Lauren getting older
Little Micah birthed a soldier
Aldo, Rem G, X The UV getting colder
With every word that they pen
As long as truth for it stems
Progress, forward motion, minor scrimmage
Never bend pescatarian and my diet's seafood
When I'm grubbing brah
Soon though I'ma have to cut the fish
Like Jerry bust a terrorist
And I ain't found a god that I believe in
And every man they tell me is
Holy as a human being bambu, yeah I be him
One rifle a minimum sacrificing morals
Trying to keep somebody feeding him
Never been my MO
Now Dunney Low he a thoroughbred
Pouring out some coffee on the curb
Trying to wake the dead