| Tell me all my children fore I come through is the
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| hood in the buildin'(yes)
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| You wont believe what I’m dealing this west coas shit,
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| oh what a feelin (ahhhh)
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| Niggaz think I’m drug dealin cus I roled out with no
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| muthaf**kin' sealing (none)
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| Is he worth a hundred million no need to ask Ice Cube
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| how I’m livin (I'm living loc)
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| I still got the recipe, South Central LA is the pedigree
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| Don’t try to tell me wuh it better be,
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| I have your ass up in physical therapy
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| I outlaw like a Cherokee, the rap industry tried to bury me
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| But if I die on a mike of a leraby I’m so heavy u bitches couldn’t carry me
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| (Chorus)
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| Get money spend money no money,
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| lookin' like a dummy (I really don’t give a f**k)
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| Your money aint my f**king money got a pocket full
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| of money (c'mon homie throw it up)
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| Get money spend money no money,
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| lookin' like a dummy (I really don’t give a f**k)
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| Your money aint my f**king money got a pocket full
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| of money (c'mon homie throw it up)
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| (Verse 2)
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| I don’t accept no disrespect only thing I expect is self check
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| Just grin and bare it, got an ass whooping that your
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| ass don’t wanna inherit
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| Most rappers are parrots, they say what they told to
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| say to get a neck fool of carrots
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| Got your momma embarrassed,
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| how long before they callin' us terrorists nigga-im serious (I)
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| Keep it gangsta but I keeps a job cus its,
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| hard to sleep when u steal and rob (and ya)
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| Got to run cus here comes the blob cus, Uncle Sam is like part of the Mobb
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| Break your self he’ll take your wealth don’t get it
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| twisted u a muthaf**kin' elf
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| And Santa Clause will go for self all u got is your balls and your health
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| (Chorus)
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| (Verse 3)
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| Niggaz brag about what they got,
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| but we don’t own a skyscraper, now that’s paypa
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| One generation from slums, happy for these little crumb… you little bums
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| We saw u pull up but nigga shut up (Shut up),
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| you always talk about a f**kin' car or truck
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| You always talkin' bout some f**kin' rims on terrier,
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| that kinda shit will keep an ass inferior
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| I’m tryina eat tomorrow, not tryina hear bout the little bitty shit u ball
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| Saw your little bitty house on cribs,
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| where u f**k your wife and feed your kids (uhuhh)
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| Nigga be quiet aint shit private, everything for sail u can buy it
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| All this self snitchin', all this self tellin' muthaf**kas
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| going back to the watermelon
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| (Chorus)x3 |
Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Get Money, Spend Money, No Money, artist - Ice Cube. Album song Raw Footage, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп