Lil Wyte - Gettin' Money Boy lyrics
[Lil Wyte - Gettin' Money Boy lyrics]
You see me on them 24s fkin tatted up
These suckas hate my guts cause
I whip that batter up im gettin money boy
Im gettin money boy im gettin money boy
Im gettin money boy
I keep a K or a sawed off in my hand
I keep my stacks wrapped up
In them rubber bands im gettin money boy
Im gettin money boy im gettin money boy
Im gettin money boy
They hate my guts hate your guts why?
I be gettin it big gotta do it fantastic
With fabulous lavoushness
Livin all around me eyes are kinda cloudy
600 dollas an O Z the best trees in cali
Money in my pocket bitch
Wrapped in rubber bands n shit
Call me if ya got a problem get
Me we can plan some shit
Grab the black mask n shit
Blacked up 4 bags n shit
Cock the 4 5 up towards the sky
And lets go mash a trick
Or we can do it old fassion and
Classic and rent out a club
Bring Wyte and the six for the muthafka
And let us tear it up
Either way we gon get the cheese
By doin what we know
Four five to yo eye or a crowded rowdy show
I get money like bill collecters
I shine like wheel reflectors
You can talk all the trash you want
Ive been sprayed with hater protector
I been bakin in there for breakfast
With steak as the appetizer
And Three Six Mafia just happens
To be my financial advisor
I whip black and lay back
Pop Os and Rolls Royces i done been up in a
Movie bitch sequel to choices
I get calls from other movie
Producers wanna use my music
And you better believe if i let em
I get paid for doin it
I be tokin on some killa kill
True and real togethers trill
Considerin im the token whitey will i
Kill it? yes i will
Lil Wytes the name ya bitch
Put that in yo manuscript
Makin cheese and clockin grip
Im talkin thats as real as it gets
These suckas hate my guts cause
I whip that batter up im gettin money boy
Im gettin money boy im gettin money boy
Im gettin money boy
I keep a K or a sawed off in my hand
I keep my stacks wrapped up
In them rubber bands im gettin money boy
Im gettin money boy im gettin money boy
Im gettin money boy
They hate my guts hate your guts why?
I be gettin it big gotta do it fantastic
With fabulous lavoushness
Livin all around me eyes are kinda cloudy
600 dollas an O Z the best trees in cali
Money in my pocket bitch
Wrapped in rubber bands n shit
Call me if ya got a problem get
Me we can plan some shit
Grab the black mask n shit
Blacked up 4 bags n shit
Cock the 4 5 up towards the sky
And lets go mash a trick
Or we can do it old fassion and
Classic and rent out a club
Bring Wyte and the six for the muthafka
And let us tear it up
Either way we gon get the cheese
By doin what we know
Four five to yo eye or a crowded rowdy show
I get money like bill collecters
I shine like wheel reflectors
You can talk all the trash you want
Ive been sprayed with hater protector
I been bakin in there for breakfast
With steak as the appetizer
And Three Six Mafia just happens
To be my financial advisor
I whip black and lay back
Pop Os and Rolls Royces i done been up in a
Movie bitch sequel to choices
I get calls from other movie
Producers wanna use my music
And you better believe if i let em
I get paid for doin it
I be tokin on some killa kill
True and real togethers trill
Considerin im the token whitey will i
Kill it? yes i will
Lil Wytes the name ya bitch
Put that in yo manuscript
Makin cheese and clockin grip
Im talkin thats as real as it gets