Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Money On My Mind, artist - Hustle Gang. Album song Hustle Gang Presents: G.D.O.D. 2, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 20.10.2014
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: HGGH
Song language: English
Money On My Mind |
Money on my mind, on my waist be that strap |
Bitch don’t fuck with my grind, nigga you dying in that stack |
No joke witchya, self made |
I’m a dope dealer in the drug game |
Don’t encroach nigga, we play for keeps |
We lay in sheets, these bitches don’t want no broke nigga |
Money on my mind, on my waist be that strap |
Bitch don’t fuck with my grind, nigga you dying in that stack |
No joke witchya, self made |
I’m a dope dealer in the drug game |
Don’t poach nigga, we play for keeps |
We lay in sheets, these bitches don’t want no broke nigga |
Intensity beats ex-tensity every time |
That’s why I go hard on every rhyme (go hard nigga) |
That’s why I thank god for every line |
I know I’m more advanced than you, demolished it when I’m barely tryin' |
Hard shit, bitches all on my dick, they hanging on my Calvin Klein |
I’m an outcast and I got 3,000, big boys with me |
Nigga sit down or get war with me, I’m dropping bombs all over Baghdad |
And a bitch bound to get more from me, if she or get whores for me |
I used to smoke weed with a gas mask, but never got high until 10, |
000 feet in the sky in an aircraft |
Counting money that come out of a trash bag |
I’m a dope boy, I sold cocaine you never had that |
I’m a whole brick and you a gram bag, I’m a scientist and you a lab rat |
Now show me where the Kraft at (money nigga), I need real cheese |
I’m a fresh prince you gotta feel me, I keep a Smith & Wesson and I will squeeze |
But I got Reggie Miller shooters, I ain’t gotta take the shot |
I’m sharp as Shannon when I move the white, even sell the Reggie to make ends |
meet |
Troy Ave nigga, in my blow bag nigga |
35 for the kilos, get mine at the oh yeah nigga |
Up my chips every flipper, fish scale, Mr. Flipper |
Wait a minute for dinner, I’m in the kitchen with whipper |
Stuttering going dummy, No other thoughts but the money |
Get it sweeter than honey, you know how T-Roy be done-y |
Mobbing deep cause you nervous, it just be me during murders |
Kept it low from surver-lance, I mean surveillance we circus |
Cash business you know, family, religion, and dough |
Been got my momma in snow, they made me the man that you know |
I talk that shit when I flow, and it be facts |
Only nigga from my block bought a big body Benz off crack |
Don’t play me for no sucka nigga, you can’t afford that reverend |
I came up from the dirt, made 6 figures now on 7 |
Mill-ions, still keep me a milly on |
I go stupider and get silly on one |
Real nigga, for real yelling «free Run B» on a pill we on |
Them Margiela kicks turn dirt as thick, say they ain’t the shit, bitch please |
Came from the bottom, you won’t make it out and nigga barely see 16 |
Cut their tongues out their mouth, fuck niggas just thinking ain’t shit sweet |
Not paying your dues, mention my city and I dare you get me |
On dough Imma flip out, watch 'em go scrammin like the 12 comin |
The 40 go pow when the whip out, but these niggas really ain’t know nothin |
(they frontin') |
We know fishing rod and we’re catching out the money sea? |
I got good aim, I’ll blow the back out of every nigga tryna front on me |
Let me tell you how I do a fuck nigga, catch em we’ll empty outta clip like it |
ain’t no thang |
And I’m riding around with the motherfucker in my coat right now, |
think it ain’t gon' bang |
Getting high with a brand new bitch in a brand new car getting the same old |
brain |
I’m a zone 1 A-town Bankhead nigga, been serious, nigga, it ain’t no game |
Imma trap 'till it’s finished, remember me |
I was standing on the corner when I was supposed to be in school, |
crack what we dealing |
Handle my business get the money until it’s stacked to the ceiling |
Pussy nigga I would rather be the villain |
In the Bentley with a couple hundred mill, all the racks we be spending get a |
fuck nigga buried |
In a motherfucking hearse, but nigga I ain’t worried |