Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Ain't Got No Dough, artist - Eve.
Date of issue: 13.09.1999
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Ain't Got No Dough |
Yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, yo Bet I make you a believer |
Fever, what you catch when you see her |
Cheater, that be you check your beeper 9−1-1 |
Never Eve stressin’for your lovin' |
I don’t want none |
Peep her, two seater |
Look at you nigga actin’like you need her |
You run blocks with your henney on the rocks |
You don’t think I see you wiling, thirsty nigga want the cock, uh Let you live for a minute ‘fore I slide off |
Get you mad, holla no smokey ride off |
Stressing me, you ain’t blessing me With your 96 Rolley glistening and impressing me Hear me though, want a job need a resume, ready though |
Cause my time is like Presume |
You got petty dough and I’m here to let you know |
My time is priceless, so if you iceless, babygirl gotta go Ain’t got no dough |
Broke ass niggas ain’t got cash flow |
Y’all know y’all can’t buy shit |
See me in the club trying to impress this, heh |
Yo, yo You can say I’m bless I know |
Niggas like ‘em flashy drive a F50 |
Jets I go, go-tee y’all blow, H-Y-dro |
Keep ‘em leaning the club |
Hoochies screaming y’all don’t know |
Many bitches follow me Daddy licking out your tongue, wanna swallow me Wanna pile me, never put no smile on me Better stop that |
Wanna see me beggin’for your chips |
Bet I doubt that |
Whatcha lookin at huh? |
Still speakin’to me think you pushin’it huh? |
Know you pussy cat run |
Cause this bitch is gonna bite |
I don’t light fire |
Grab it, choke it, hold it down |
Ride it ruff ryde |
I can give you what you need |
Or give you what you like |
But the pay is kind of the low |
So this pussy pawn stride |
Wishin’you could touch me, lust me Listen up daddy you ain’t ready for the bed |
Try-na to give it up Yo, yo Swizz got beats locked |
Every time I drop shit’s hot |
Think not and it don’t stop |
This bitch top notch and |
Y’all keep watching |
Play the back baby while your team keep flockin' |
Try-na to touch my ass |
You ain’t got the strength to mount this stallion, I pass |
Whiling out I dash |
To that type of thug that’s about they business |
Piling out that cash |
Long line of credit cause I like my thug to last |
See they like it when I talk back |
Dough stack, cut backs, we don’t want that |
Frontin’but you flaunt that |
Somethin’whatcha want black |
Cheap stack, keep that |
Fake money nigga, fake thug |
We don’t need that |
What’s that all about |
I can see you from a mile running at the mouth |
Lies poppin’out |
Claimin’you’s a hustlin’type of nigga, cut it out |
You’s an average type of cat |
No money, no clout |
When Missy flow I give y’all fever, yo If your bitch is ugly you don’t need her |
Feed her to a wild pack of cheetas |
Yo I let y’all bitches see I’m off the meter, heater |
Me and Eve give ya seizures |
Know I put your niggas down on their knees uhh, eat up Then we treat you like skeezers, yo let me Let me take a quick breather (Ahhh!) |
Yo do y’all smell them trees huh? |
Do you hear them bangin’Swizz Beats huh? |
Oh do you feel the rappin’Missy huh? |
Well where you wanna roll wit me huh? |
me huh? |
One-two Misdemeanor |
Yeah, yeah, yeah |
Mutherfucker now, mutherfucker now what? |
Aiight |