M24 - Intro lyrics
[M24 - Intro lyrics]
I blew a bag up in the
Store then another on my son
Pay the cost to live this life
I blew a racker just for fun
I gave some rackers to my mum
She got a rapper for a son
Coolie baddie wanna come
I blew her back out in the sun
My outfit looked expensive
Now they're workin' out the sum
'Member days I was on the run
For the stabbing that I done
Fed raided out my drum
Didn't even find a crumb
Got this Cali in my lungs
I'm reminiscin' on my ones
Get money, fuck bitches
Fuck the opp boys and fuck snitches
Don't let me spin it and get wicked
Fuck around and get your head back lifted
Young nigga gifted but don't get it twisted
It ain't my fault that I
Took a man's missus
He don't fit in, he a real life misfit
They don't wanna risk it for a biscuit
I grew up in a ghetto, this is real life rap
They don't know about the ghetto
It's just real life cap
You ain't a real life man
You're a social guy
I do it real life, I ain't a social type
On cars or bikes, tryna out man's lights
Now it's nothin' but lights when
I grab that mic
Makin' racks off rap, I made racks off packs
In the space of a year, got about ten plaques
Get money, fuck bitches
Fuck the opp boys and fuck snitches
Don't let me spin it and get wicked
Fuck around and get your head back lifted
Get money, fuck bitches
Fuck the opp boys and fuck snitches
Don't let me spin it and get wicked
Fuck around and get your head back lifted
Look, this music shit you got goin' on
It don't come around every fuckin' day
When a motherfucker like you make it
We all make it
What if I don't make it?
Listen, I told you how to
Get into the drug game
Now I'm tellin' you how to get the fuck out
You don't have a record deal? Then
Go out and get one
But you're not goin' back on the block
Get money, fuck bitches
Fuck the opp boys and fuck snitches
Don't let me spin it and get wicked
Fuck around and get your head back lifted
Get money, fuck bitches
Fuck the opp boys and fuck snitches
Don't let me spin it and get wicked
Fuck around and get your head back lifted
Store then another on my son
Pay the cost to live this life
I blew a racker just for fun
I gave some rackers to my mum
She got a rapper for a son
Coolie baddie wanna come
I blew her back out in the sun
My outfit looked expensive
Now they're workin' out the sum
'Member days I was on the run
For the stabbing that I done
Fed raided out my drum
Didn't even find a crumb
Got this Cali in my lungs
I'm reminiscin' on my ones
Get money, fuck bitches
Fuck the opp boys and fuck snitches
Don't let me spin it and get wicked
Fuck around and get your head back lifted
Young nigga gifted but don't get it twisted
It ain't my fault that I
Took a man's missus
He don't fit in, he a real life misfit
They don't wanna risk it for a biscuit
I grew up in a ghetto, this is real life rap
They don't know about the ghetto
It's just real life cap
You ain't a real life man
You're a social guy
I do it real life, I ain't a social type
On cars or bikes, tryna out man's lights
Now it's nothin' but lights when
I grab that mic
Makin' racks off rap, I made racks off packs
In the space of a year, got about ten plaques
Get money, fuck bitches
Fuck the opp boys and fuck snitches
Don't let me spin it and get wicked
Fuck around and get your head back lifted
Get money, fuck bitches
Fuck the opp boys and fuck snitches
Don't let me spin it and get wicked
Fuck around and get your head back lifted
Look, this music shit you got goin' on
It don't come around every fuckin' day
When a motherfucker like you make it
We all make it
What if I don't make it?
Listen, I told you how to
Get into the drug game
Now I'm tellin' you how to get the fuck out
You don't have a record deal? Then
Go out and get one
But you're not goin' back on the block
Get money, fuck bitches
Fuck the opp boys and fuck snitches
Don't let me spin it and get wicked
Fuck around and get your head back lifted
Get money, fuck bitches
Fuck the opp boys and fuck snitches
Don't let me spin it and get wicked
Fuck around and get your head back lifted