Hi-C, El DeBarge, DJ Quik - Get the Money lyrics

Ey yo Quik (What's up dogg?)
I was hollerin' at LL, right? (Uh, huh)
And he said uh "Yo god
Man you gotta give me some heat"
(That's right, what you say?)
I said "Yo L, c'mon man, you know how we do"
We do what we do check this out -

Money-money make the world go 'round
And homie if you got it
You can damn sure clown
Flyin' in and out of town, party over here
Look at you tryin' to be Baller of the Year
Now what you hear is not a test
Comin' from the kingpins of
The Wild Wild West grab your nine milla' and
Your bulletproof vest
A ticket to Atlanta with a gang of sex
Yes, it's 'bout time I get mine
Big pimpin' goin' on and you a step behind
Nigga get off ya ass


(When there's money to be made)
Stop livin' with your moms
('Cause there's bills to be paid)
You treat her like a maid, she cook and clean
While yo' ass on the couch
Watchin' her big screen
Since the age of 19 I was on my own
In the zone, out there straight gettin' it on
When you're broke you're alone
And I love humpin' me them big booty hoes
Steady tryin' to hump me the more money
More freaks
So you better get payed this week

Money, yeah i gots to get it y'all
Ooh ooh ooh ooh, money
I gots to have it y'all

It's a rich mans world nigga
And it's gon' take about a billion to
Get like I wanna be chillin'
The feelin' is mutual for niggas
That wanna grind too
Let DJ Quik and my nigga
Crawford remind you dude
You needs to get out on the frontline
On the grind while you lay up on yo' ass
And dream of dollar signs
Nigga don't you know that money
Keeps the sex steamin'?
So don't be jealous when you
See my Lex' gleamin' we talkin' millions
That's what we wanna holla you talkin' G
All section 8 and three hundred dollars?
Nigga what you thinkin'? fool
What you drankin'?
Hmm, that's probably the reason
Your couches is stankin'
(Now it would be easier to
Get up on the county and lay up on yo' ass
While you makin' free money
Finna get my hustle on, payin' all the taxes
That go back to niggas like
You on the county) say it if you feel it
Money may be root of the evil
But the chips will have you
Jumpin' shit like Robbie Knievel
Fuck thinkin' money buys you happiness
That's just bad
But, I'd rather be rich and sad, nigga

Money, yeah, yeah gots to get it y'all
Money, yeah, yeah got to have it y'all
Talkin' about, talkin' about money

You the type to borrow money
But you don't pay back
You don't look out for your homies
When they pockets are flat
Your mamma workin' hard
Steady breakin' her back
While you steady seekin' money
In that raggedy 'Llac
God bless the child who got his own
So God blessed your boy with this microphone
Stand strong in the zone, get your hustle on
Whether it's ballin', babysittin'
Or slangin' this bone

A big baller roll call, baby we all here
We drink up more money a night
Than y'all see all year
And that half-breed you stressin'
Dude she call here
And we ain't gotta push her down
She fall here
Spendin' everything left of the decimal point
Take a hit and I'm passin' on
The rest of my joint so bring a big check or
I'm bringin' the drama
With a zero - zero - zero - comma where my -

Money, yeah, yeah gots to get it y'all
Money, yeah got to have it y'all
Talkin' about, talkin' about money, yeah
Talkin' about money yeah
Money, yeah money yeah
Money, yeah talkin' about money
Yeaaaah money, yeah, talkin' about money
You know I got to have it money