Lyrics Money, Houses And Cars - Bad Azz

Money, Houses And Cars

This life of ours
The same thing that got a nigga here get me there
(Everything you see, ain’t always what it seems to be)
Yeah yeah, the same thing that got a nigga here get me there
Come on, Bad Azz, Kurupt, The Gang
I’m just trying ta make a dollar out of nothing
Turn zero into somethin'
And it’s, one life we live, with this, one shot to give
You got chances, we use none risking your life
You know we got guns, why you come and get us with knives
It’s a cold thang, the game, just take folks under
It feels better if you say that god just called his number
When you do we kept a self situations like that
In situations where it’s likely somebody might gat
No bad intentions, we all like to jump in the car
No destination but we all thinkin hard to get far
Money, houses, and cars, this life of ours, goin where
We came a long way, but still we got so far to go to get there
(The same thing that got a nigga here get me there, and if it don’t,
it wasn’t sposed to)
Money, houses, and cars, this life of ours, goin where
We came a long way, but still we got so far to go to get there
(The same thing that got a nigga here get me there, and if it don’t,
it wasn’t sposed to)
I got gangsta ass niggas with so much heat
G’d up rides with so much beat
G’d up apparal, dope by the barrels, gangsta ass goodfella nigga
Kurupt and Nell
I once had a bitch that ate so much dick
That she couldn’t do nuthin for me, but blow one of the homies
As I ease my way right up the streets
Me, D-A-Z, Bad Azz, and Priest
We gotta hit the spot where the homies meet
Where all the OG’s round up the fleet
Cuz the homies is crazy shit
And we all about stackin' up a grip
No funny ass niggas, no scandalous ass ho’s
And we don’t give a fuck about a bitch
I can’t worry bout a bitch
I’m tryin ta get rich by next week
And I can get me some pussy when it ain’t nuttin to eat
My life, this life of ours buyin nuttin, houses and cars
Ghetto stars, doin our thing
Like bust a bitch, bust a bitch, and get rich with my gang
We brang, to the table, what you ain’t able
A few pies to cut, cuz we ride for bucks in the worst way
Today Tuesday, I got a date on Thursday, and fuck what you say
You say dirt about us when we ain’t there
When we come around, you fuckin clown, you act scared
2Pac is dead, stop questioning life
You had to talk to the feds, that’s the test in the life
Goin where, a long way from here to get there
You gotta mash to maintain
Blast thats the gang thang
(the same thing that got a nigga here get me there)
Money, houses, and cars, this life of ours, goin where
We came a long way, but still we got so far to go to get there
(the same thing that got a nigga here get me there, and if it don’t,
it wasn’t sposed to)
Money, houses, and cars, this life of ours, goin where
We came a long way, but still we got so far to go to get there
(the same thing that got a nigga here get me there, and if it don’t,
it wasn’t sposed to)
(I, I, I, I)
I heard gangstas don’t ride with disguises
But I’m quick to throw the mask on to get my blast on
So call it what you want, yeah yeah, that’s all cool
But me and the homies bout to act the fuckin fool
Dump if you dump
Nigga pull the pump
Lay a nigga (lay a nigga), for the homies spray a nigga
This ain’t the Sony, so you can’t play a nigga
The homies quick to cock, A-K a nigga
With no hesitation
Penaltants populate the population
A nickel plated penitration
Khakis, t-shirts and stars
Homies, busta’s, riders and mark’s
All y’all niggas here wanna be hard
But no nigga with heart when the heater spark
Just ask the homie Bad Azz
He’ll put you d on how it’s sposed to be in the whole family
As I ease my way right up the streets
Me, D-A-Z, Bad Azz and Priest
We gotta hit the spot where the homies meet
Where all the OG’s round up the fleet
Cuz the homies is crazy as shit
And we all about stackin' up a grip
No funny ass niggas, no scandliss ass ho’s
And we don’t give a fuck about a bitch, (bitch, bitch, bitch)
Yeah, 1−9-9−9, the Gang, all in your face at close range
Mr. Bad Azz, yeah yeah yeah yeah, it don’t quit, we keep it crackin like this
Ugh, aww yeah yeah yeah, it don’t quit
It ain’t over till I’m done
Ain’t nowhere to hide, so why run
I don’t battle with rappers, either bomb or draw guns
You can hate me, cuz I got skills and live real
And my life is well woven in these stack of dollar bills
I should kill, I would come and kill your ass
But your only mission is destruction, why get in your path
I’ll let you kill yourself, while I chill with wealth
And let the story be the word on the streets, a few weeks
I gotta eat, fuck fuckin with you and being broke on the streets
Duck duckin with you and gettin' smoked, that’s a no-no
What you think it’s fifty five or 4−4
Money, houses, and cars, nigga I gotta go
Yeah yeah yeah yeah
It don’t quit we keep it wreckin like this, ha ha ha ha
Yeah yeah yeah yeah it don’t quit
Nigga you can suck a fat dick
Yeah, yeah yeah yeah yeah
We keep it crackin, keep it crackin like this (this, this, this, this)