Hell Rell, J.R. Writer - I'm About My Money Bitch lyrics

[Hell Rell, J.R. Writer - I'm About My Money Bitch lyrics]

Okay, I'm all about my money bitch
Hell Rell, I'm all about my money

Yo, blow money in large amounts
Niggas hate when these cars is out
Lamborghini this, Porsche that
Can he afford that, yeah he bought that
Naw nigga, when I got my deal I ain't
Act like I was all that
Put up start-up money so my niggas can eat
Supply the hustlers with more crack
Sent niggas outta town with
Pounds of the piff told 'em get rich
Stack that change nigga, cent by cent
Then learn that your license plate
Done homeboy switched your whip
It's true holmes
Them boys may be tapping your Boost phone
Get a new phone p-89 Ruger, two-tone
This my house nigga not a group-on
If a nigga run up I'm bussin' the Glock


Other than that, then I'm huggin' the block
I'm feelin' like Killa Cam
And Little Weezy bitch
What's good you gon' suck it or not
If not then get the fuck out the drop
Look how the diamonds is huggin' the watch
I'm nice with the flow man
But, I'm getting paid from the blow man
Shit, I'm stuck in the spot
Better have my money bitch
You better have my money bitch
Better have my money bitch
You better have my money bitch
Better have my money bitch you know why

Uh, I'm bad, bad to the bone
Back to the lab, back in the zone
Back of the 'Lac with' a bag full of stones
Caps in the chrome, come scrap with Stallone
That's that Rambo ammo famo
Better leave the scraper alone or
It's back to this home
Try to take the hat off his dome
I don't know why they touch JR
Like the vet ain't hard or I'd F they broad
Like I don't come through in the SKR
With the SK pa and the ese squad
That'll bag you
Drag you up a couple blocks to
The spot where the eses are
Since he wanna front like he next in charge
He'll be in the trunk of a next man's car
Pa, I'm sick as they come
Chips from a crumb, live by the gun
Dip when it blown, go for the deck
Throw up the set, bitch where you from
I'm a Harlem nigga, problems nigga
It'll be 50 to 1 but, I rather do your bitch
And have her lookin' at
Me like she got a damn clip on her tongue
Ruger, okay, I'm all about my money
Where my money (Hell Rell)
I'm all about my money where my money bitch
Yeah, I'm all about my money where my money

Sell some pussy, suck some dick
Walk the track, hug the strip
I don't give a fuck if he slapped yo' momma
Damn right bitch, I want every last dollar
Daddy need 22's for his new Porsche
Daddy need flat screens for his new loft
You got the job, you hired
Be at the office at 9, I'm your new boss
New gun in town, get used to me
You're washed up old man
I'm what you used to be
One bitch for the night but it's usually
2 or 3 that's screwing me
Plus a shot for the Bronx, 2 for Weeks
That's my hood nigga, that's my block
Ruger Rell nigga, that's what's hot
Look at me wrong, I'm a clap my Glock
Yeah bitch, you know the damn name
Now get your little ass in this damn Range
You want some champagne
I ain't goin' nowhere but got a flight
Book just incase my plans change
Dipset nigga, that's the damn gang
Eastside, Soo Woo campaign
Look at this nigga baby-mother car
Big brother ring and his man's chain
Ruger, okay, I'm all about my money
Where my money (Hell Rell)
I'm all about my money where my money bitch
Yeah, I'm all about my money where my money

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