Tekst piosenki
[Hook]
Money…
For the money…
Money…
Money!…
Ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah
Money!
[Verse 1: Kapone Luciano]
(Yea… Ya… Yea)
Where I’m from money means that sticky green
Fine bitches and the coldest cars you’ve ever seen
Them niggas mean mug, why they hate for?
Cause ain’t no more real niggas left to hate on
Them dogs bark loud, but they ain’t gone get stupid
Life’s like a back yard and I done been through it
Jumping from gate to gate, we in a fucking race
Aye yung choppah I know a short cut to this paper chase
Try to rob me watch my goons get wilder
Yea they make a little noise but they guns get louder
I ain’t gone slip but they gone keep on waitin’
If you plottin’ with them boys then you partici-hatin’
Anticipatin’ precipitation
These bitches be wishin’ that they could take it
I’d rather play with that pussy and let them taste it
Try to get’em to my room and then get them naked
I’m a Sheppard Square baby catch me doin’ my thang
East end taliban young suuwuu gang
No I ain’t ya damn peoples, no I ain’t ya damn equal
You know that Glock under my shirt is fucking lethal
My gun a carnivore cause it eat people
So much ice I should star in a matrix sequel
I’m a fucking king don’t want no fucking glory
My life’s like a movie based on a true story
[Verse 2: Choppah]
(Yea… Yea… Uh)
Standin’ in my presence watch yourself around mines
I have the (money) to fuck around and buy ya life ten times
Got the (money) to get inside ya girls pussy got her screaming like
(Ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah)
Uh and what you mean me and Tweezy F. Ya Lady run tennis game on a whore
And she go back and fourth back and fourth til one of us score
Just for the (money) young nigga and i ain’t searching for no record label
But if you looking for me I’m behind ya ladies navel
Ha… I do what I does
Cause money’s the inspiration and I do this because
You niggas know you can’t stop me, I know you can’t stand me
You wishing they drop me but I’m hot so just fan me
I’m fly just listening to the wind blow
Now wake up and see me beaming through ya window
Look up a red beam on ya forehead
I make this rifle explode like a warhead
I’m on my rock shit shootin’ off in the mosh pit
You on ya bullshit but you ain’t trying to pull shit
I be on some other shit AKA that dumb shit
And yes we brought them bangers got em’ bangin’ like a drum kit
Niggas tryna down grade sayin’ that im frontin’
But I believe the correct vernacular is stuntin’
I gotta go can’t miss my next flight
I see you all in the next life, holla at me
[Hook]
Money…
For the money…
Money…
Money!…
Ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah
Money!
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