Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Get That Dough , by - Beanie Sigel. Release date: 31.12.2001
Song language: English
Get That Dough |
| Get, that, dough |
| Still huggin the strip |
| Get, that, dough |
| Get the dough nigga (that dough) |
| Uhh uhh, Sig' get, that, dough |
| Uhh. |
| yo, uhh. |
| yo (get, that, dough) |
| I’m sick of niggas talkin bout they whips — when they bustin 'em out |
| Summertime come around, don’t nuttin come out |
| Snappin on they bitch, cussin her out |
| Mad cause they crack, ain’t no crack, they sufferin a drought |
| Man you know how Mac play when I sling my butter |
| Take my show state to state like the Ringling Brothers |
| Keep clowns high-wired off the shit I juggle |
| F.B.I. |
| eyes spyin from the shit I smuggle |
| Keep the trunk of the car lined with coffee grounds |
| The cops pull us over it throw off the hounds |
| Got a bitch that let me stash shit in the crib |
| Break her off, every week, to fix up her wig |
| Man I stay on a mission with whores (shit) |
| Cause I get down, and «Get Around,» like the late Mr. Shakur |
| Stay in the kitchen with raw |
| I’m the shit when I whip, I always turn two into four |
| Yo, get your mind right, get your grind right |
| Til you get the shine right and get, that, dough |
| Stay on the low-low, duckin the po'-po' |
| Tuck in the fo'-fo' and get, that, dough |
| You get your team right, and that’s the green light |
| To cut your cream right and get, that, dough |
| It won’t stop y’all, until I drop y’all |
| I’mma hug the block y’all and get, that, dough |
| Yo, aiyyo I got plenty dough, but there’s more to make |
| And I’m the chef, I bake, I don’t order cakes |
| If I’m short, shit you caught a break |
| I can make twenty look like twenty-eight off of water weight |
| I’m the shit when I’m twistin my wrist |
| In the kitchen with that thang that got fiends skitzin to hit |
| From the drugs that I drug in, the NARCs be buggin |
| I keep my eye on the block and a pie in the oven |
| Smokers come straight, I ain’t breakin off nuttin |
| Got two thirty-eights, I can break off a dozen |
| You know how Mac play, when it come to that yea |
| I got 'em locked up on the block like it’s crack day |
| I fucks with the pipers, ducks from the bikers |
| Punks on the righteous, bust at the sheisters |
| Stay in the kitchen with a block of raw |
| Razor blade play partner straw, yo |
| Yo, yo, aiyyo I cops that coke, cooks that coke |
| Chops that coke and give out perks work |
| Makes that dough, gets them ends |
| How you want it dog, pipe or syringe? |
| Aiyyo I hit the block quickly, and lick up a fifty |
| Tear the highway like Freeway Ricky |
| Spit it my way and pop shit sickly |
| Til the Feds come and get me or the lead bullet hit me |