Cassidy - Get More Money lyrics
[Cassidy - Get More Money lyrics]
Get more money get get more money
Get more money get get more money
Cause slow money better than no money
And I make that fast cash I'm no dummy
Get more money get get more money
Get more money get get more money
Cause slow money better than your money
I think being broke is a
Joke and you so funny
I know money don't grow on
Trees I'm no dummy
But I grow trees and get more money
I sold 20s
I get kush, sour, purple and dro money
And I still get the E pill and yayo money
They say more money more problems well homie
I'mma just deal with the problems
And get more money
I rap and I buy ghats we sho money
And push cats we have to
Decide like the old gumbies
I'm hungry and Im tryna fill
Up my whole tummy it's a wrap like a mummy
You cats got no money
Now I can make it rain, hail, and snow money
But the way my ice shine it
Will still look so sunny
Murda, murda, murda, murda, murda man
Heard I'm disturbin' and hurry
Alert the word
I'm workin' that Eddie Murphy thats that
Raw and I serve it
Two weeks in the game I got a car and a murda
Yea my heart in the burner my
Burner and my firm grip
Better straighten everything out I
Let that perm sit
Shout to them Hollygrove niggas
On that hood shit know your nigga got it on
Lock like a full fist
Back of the head with the back of the Glock
Leave em in the back of the
Building back to the block
Yea we on the clock and the money is calling
And I hear my name over
The shot said I'm responding
Wayne where are you I'm comin for you
When I'm on the road to
Riches bitch go pluck marbles
And I know the bread stale
And the milk is spoiled
But if we don't eat we won't see tomorrow
I'm the hustler
Getting paid for my occupation
When I was broke I sold
Coke to the population
I'm thorough so your girl????
Stop the hating ??? if I'm not mistaken
(Yo when the next album dropin?)
Sorry I got you waitin'
(Oh, you cook it up?)
Yep, im a chef but I don't rock the apron
(Do you belive in the lord?)
Sure but I'm hot as Satan
Everything I make is hot
I can't stop creatin
And my Mercedes do look crazy, in navy blue
The roof, glass
And the rims was born in 82'
That means they 26
I'm on some get money shit
You on some bummy shit
Your money is some funny shit
Get more money get get more money
Cause slow money better than no money
And I make that fast cash I'm no dummy
Get more money get get more money
Get more money get get more money
Cause slow money better than your money
I think being broke is a
Joke and you so funny
I know money don't grow on
Trees I'm no dummy
But I grow trees and get more money
I sold 20s
I get kush, sour, purple and dro money
And I still get the E pill and yayo money
They say more money more problems well homie
I'mma just deal with the problems
And get more money
I rap and I buy ghats we sho money
And push cats we have to
Decide like the old gumbies
I'm hungry and Im tryna fill
Up my whole tummy it's a wrap like a mummy
You cats got no money
Now I can make it rain, hail, and snow money
But the way my ice shine it
Will still look so sunny
Murda, murda, murda, murda, murda man
Heard I'm disturbin' and hurry
Alert the word
I'm workin' that Eddie Murphy thats that
Raw and I serve it
Two weeks in the game I got a car and a murda
Yea my heart in the burner my
Burner and my firm grip
Better straighten everything out I
Let that perm sit
Shout to them Hollygrove niggas
On that hood shit know your nigga got it on
Lock like a full fist
Back of the head with the back of the Glock
Leave em in the back of the
Building back to the block
Yea we on the clock and the money is calling
And I hear my name over
The shot said I'm responding
Wayne where are you I'm comin for you
When I'm on the road to
Riches bitch go pluck marbles
And I know the bread stale
And the milk is spoiled
But if we don't eat we won't see tomorrow
I'm the hustler
Getting paid for my occupation
When I was broke I sold
Coke to the population
I'm thorough so your girl????
Stop the hating ??? if I'm not mistaken
(Yo when the next album dropin?)
Sorry I got you waitin'
(Oh, you cook it up?)
Yep, im a chef but I don't rock the apron
(Do you belive in the lord?)
Sure but I'm hot as Satan
Everything I make is hot
I can't stop creatin
And my Mercedes do look crazy, in navy blue
The roof, glass
And the rims was born in 82'
That means they 26
I'm on some get money shit
You on some bummy shit
Your money is some funny shit