J.R. Writer, 40 Cal - Getting Money lyrics

[J.R. Writer, 40 Cal - Getting Money lyrics]

We getting money over herewhat it do pimpin?
We getting money over herewhat it do pimpin?
We getting money over herewhat it do pimpin?
We getting money over herewhat it do pimpin?

We getting money over herewhat it do pimpin?
We getting money over herewhat it do pimpin?
We getting money over herewhat it do pimpin?
We getting money over herewhat it do pimpin?

That's word buzzen, I swerve cousin (errr)
In that 2006 like it's worth nothing
Got these bird's bugging, I'm on 1st stunting
With no stick-shift just a reverse button
(the Aston Martin)
But, I ain't Hollywood hater
I'm still serving them like
A Volleyball player
Spare 8 keys, the gear chase me
You need two? Meet me in Staircase B
I'm pitching em, you ain't never seen hard


You little creeps starved
You niggas need jobs
I do this steam large, bottles after bottles
Then dismiss the case like a
Judge on a weak charge
Peep Rscrapper this shit is nothing
You actors are into cuffing
These scragglers are disgusting
Ask 'em all how I'm bubbling
I spray more Alcohol around then a
Barber after he finished cutting!

We getting money over herewhat it do pimpin?
We getting money over herewhat it do pimpin?
We getting money over herewhat it do pimpin?
We getting money over herewhat it do pimpin?

Iget money, get mooga get money, get mooga
Get money get money get mooga40!
Idress gully, vest with the fresh skully
Lex buggy
No cologne cause I'm smellin like fresh money
You better tell thunny you
Never will sell bunkies
You can't hold nothing but shells
That dwell from me
Prolly go to jail, praying like HELP dummy
While I'm diddy bopping out
Waving like jail funny
I get locked up by twelve, say around 12: 20
Call me Slater & Screech
Get Saved By The Bell money
Then I ice grill the judge
Cause it just felt gully
Leave an ape nigga bloody s'what
I call a "Red Monkey"
Yeahthe champion cheering
Man of the year when
I go to the store copping
What the mannequin wearing!
Serving grams to ya parents
I get the ounce flippin
I admiti'm the reason the shit
In ya house missing!
I'm in ya spouse kitchen
Making other figures
With dick in her mouth like Killa
"I'm getting money niggaaaaa!"


Ya shines are simple, mine's offend you
(heh)
Yours "bling bling"my shit dingles! (ding)
You don't know the grind I'm into
Check the rose I floss yeah I put 'em on but
The shit's keep going off
I'm glistening gold, wrissery froze
Boogers all in my ring and
I ain't digging my nose
Too much digit's to fold
What I'm spending is old
But, I still will mack a chick
And tell a pigeon like "YO!"
We getting money over here!
Fix ya face ho, why? cause I say so
What part don't you understand?
I'm getting peso's
They know not to stunt on me with some liquor
I'll buy out the bar just
For me and my niggas
Nobody drinks, look fam that's the crew
I'll have the whole club
Sipping Cranberry juice (sober lmaoo)
You hungry in the rear, my money in the air
I don't know what y'all doing over there
But lookwe GETTING MONEY OVER HERE!

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