Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Money Trees, artist - Kendrick Lamar.
Date of issue: 31.12.2012
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Money Trees |
Uh, me and my niggas tryna get it, ya bish (Ya bish) |
Hit the house lick: tell me, is you wit' it, ya bish? |
(Ya bish) |
Home invasion was persuasive (Was persuasive) |
From nine to five I know it's vacant, ya bish (Ya bish) |
Dreams of livin' life like rappers do (Like rappers do) |
Back when condom wrappers wasn't cool (They wasn't cool) |
I fucked Sherane and went to tell my bros (Tell my bros) |
Then Usher Raymond "Let It Burn" came on ("Let Burn" came on) |
Hot sauce all in our Top Ramen, ya bish (Ya bish) |
Park the car, then we start rhymin', ya bish (Ya bish) |
The only thing we had to free our mind (Free our mind) |
Then freeze that verse when we see dollar signs (See dollar signs) |
You lookin' like a easy come-up, ya bish (Ya bish) |
A silver spoon I know you come from, ya bish (Ya bish) |
And that's a lifestyle that we never knew (We never knew) |
Go at a reverend for the revenue |
It go Halle Berry or hallelujah |
Pick your poison, tell me what you doin' |
Everybody gon' respect the shooter |
But the one in front of the gun lives forever |
(The one in front of the gun, forever) |
And I been hustlin' all day |
This-a-way, that-a-way |
Through canals and alleyways, just to say |
Money trees is the perfect place for shade |
And that's just how I feel |
Nah, nah |
A dollar might just fuck your main bitch |
That's just how I feel, nah |
A dollar might say fuck them niggas that you came with |
That's just how I feel, nah, nah |
A dollar might just make that lane switch |
That's just how I feel, nah |
A dollar might turn to a million and we all rich |
That's just how I feel |
Dreams of livin' life like rappers do (Like rappers do) |
Bump that new E-40 after school (Way after school) |
You know, “Big Ballin' With My Homies” (My homies) |
Earl Stevens had us thinkin' rational (Thinkin' rational, that's rational) |
Back to reality, we poor, ya bish (Ya bish) |
Another casualty at war, ya bish (Ya bish) |
Two bullets in my Uncle Tony head (My Tony head) |
He said one day I'll be on tour, ya bish (Ya bish) |
That Louis Burgers never be the same (Won't be the same) |
A Louis belt that never ease that pain (Won't ease that pain) |
But I'ma purchase when that day is jerkin' (That day is jerkin') |
Pull off at Church's, with Pirellis skirtin' (Pirellis skirtin') |
Gang signs out the window, ya bish (Ya bish) |
Hopin' all of 'em offend you, ya bish (Ya bish) |
They say your hood is a pot of gold (A pot of gold) |
And we gon' crash it when nobody's home |
It go Halle Berry or hallelujah |
Pick your poison, tell me what you doin' |
Everybody gon' respect the shooter |
But the one in front of the gun lives forever |
(The one in front of the gun, forever) |
And I been hustlin' all day |
This-a-way, that-a-way |
Through canals and alleyways, just to say |
Money trees is the perfect place for shade |
And that's just how I feel |
Nah, nah |
A dollar might just fuck your main bitch |
That's just how I feel, nah |
A dollar might say fuck them niggas that you came with |
That's just how I feel, nah, nah |
A dollar might just make that lane switch |
That's just how I feel, nah |
A dollar might turn to a million and we all rich |
That's just how I feel |
Be the last one out to get this dough? |
No way! |
Love one of you bucket-headed hoes? |
No way! |
Hit the streets, then we break the code? |
No way! |
Hit the brakes when they on patrol? |
No way! |
Be the last one out to get this dough? |
No way! |
Love one of you bucket-headed hoes? |
No way! |
Hit the streets, then we break the code? |
No way! |
Hit the brakes when they on patrol? |
No way! |
Imagine Rock up in them projects |
Where them niggas pick your pockets |
Santa Claus don't miss them stockings |
Liquors spillin', pistols poppin' |
Bakin' soda YOLA whippin' |
Ain't no turkey on Thanksgivin' |
My homeboy just dome'd a nigga |
I just hope the Lord forgive him |
Pots with cocaine residue |
Every day I'm hustlin' |
What else is a thug to do |
When you eatin' cheese from the government? |
Gotta provide for my daughter n'em |
Get the fuck up out my way, bitch |
Got that drum and I got them bands |
Just like a parade, bitch |
Drop that work up in the bushes |
Hope them boys don't see my stash |
If they do, tell the truth |
This the last time you might see my ass |
From the gardens where the grass ain't cut |
Them serpents lurkin', Blood |
Bitches sellin' pussy, niggas sellin' drugs |
But it's all good |
Broken promises, steal your watch |
And tell you what time it is |
Take your J's and tell you to kick it where a FootLocker is |
In the streets with a heater under my Dungarees |
Dreams of me gettin' shaded under a money tree |
It go Halle Berry or hallelujah |
Pick your poison, tell me what you doin' |
Everybody gon' respect the shooter |
But the one in front of the gun lives forever |
(The one in front of the gun, forever) |
And I been hustlin' all day |
This-a-way, that-a-way |
Through canals and alleyways, just to say |
Money trees is the perfect place for shade |
And that's just how I feel |
Kendrick’s Mom: Kendrick, just bring my car back, man. |
I called in for another appointment. |
I figured you weren’t gonna be back here on time anyways. |
Look, shit, shit, I just wanna get out the house, man. |
This man is on one, he feelin' good as a motherfucker. |
Shit, I’m tryna get my thing goin', too. |
Just bring my car back. |
Shit, he faded. |
He feelin' good. |
Look, listen to him! |
Kendrick’s Dad: Girl, girl, I want your body, I want your body, 'cause of that big ol’ fat ass. |
Girl, girl, I want your body, I want your body, 'cause of that big ol’ fat ass |
Kendrick’s Mom: See, he high as hell. |
Shit, and he ain’t even trippin' off them damn dominoes anymore. |
Just bring the car back! |
Kendrick’s Dad: Did somebody say dominoes? |