Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Gettin Paid, artist - Lil Keke. Album song Catalog & Collection Vol. 1, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 06.05.2013
Record label: Seven 13
Song language: English
Gettin Paid |
Got my mind on this money, cause I gotta stay paid |
Running into fakers on my journey, everyday |
Just because, they see a nigga riding high |
They think that I be slipping, and I don’t know why |
I got this money in my pocket, making moves everyday |
Laughing at these haters, waving money in they face |
Even though I know, they really wanna ride |
I pay em no attention, and they don’t know why |
Hit em up get em up, early in the morning |
I’m smoking pine and writing rhymes, while niggas still yawning |
By noon I’m out the do', twenty inches to the flo' |
Although bidness been slow, this mouthpiece fa sho |
And I know that no hoe, can interfere with this cash flow |
That ass we can bash, like grass begin to grow |
Zero once mo', had to show up and po' up |
Unexpectedly blow up, then proceed to sew up |
Bitches throw up they sick, far gon on my dick |
I was treated like shit, until I dropped my first hit |
Southside baby, won’t you scream it if you mean it |
I done been there done that, 22 young I done seen it |
Got some plex go on bring it, rap star but I can sing it |
Twenty G’s a show, with eight mo' I can swing it |
Moving ki’s and G’s, on down to C.D.'s and LP’s |
Clocking nothing but thee’s, doing this thang with ease I’m getting paid |
This the space age playa, let’s drift into places |
Where gangstas turn stars, on the regular basis |
You don’t work you don’t eat, lesson one on the street |
I’m the only man in my mama’s eyes, I gotta be on feet |
But my mystery is complete, in this life long miracle |
I must confess I been blessed, just to be so lyrical |
Smoking blunts and pulling stunts, bitch I’m cold as a blizzard |
I get in to fit in, then blend in like a lizard |
It’s the wizard, steady waving my wand |
Be calm in the presence, of the hard headed don |
Switched up on haters, grabbed the sto’s and theaters |
Put the steak on a plate, large estates with the acres |
Put the punks in the trunks, put the frauds with the fakers |
Got my grind on, shine on with my paper |
How can you escape the, lyrical impact |
That’s coming through your chest, your head and your back |
It’s a fact that I stack, count mills to be exact |
Rap game hall of fame, nothing but awards and placks |
So where the haters at, so I could squash the chit-chat |
Born and raised to break hats, and stay strapped with my gat |
Cream mats in the Lac, chromey 4's be turning |
Money earning my concerning, plus the weed I’m burning |
I’m confirming the commission, while you suckers get played |
Jam Down it’s for real, forever get paid we getting paid |
It’s so hard to get rich, but easy to be broke |
And these toss up’s and cross up’s, mo' niggas get smoked |
I’m at the end of the road, transacts for do' |
When there’s a will there’s a way, dear God I hope |
My career don’t slow, or fall to something negative |
Proposition and mission, is to be an executive |
Cool calm and collected, intellectually respected |
The body to the rap game, I slowly dissect it |
I select the category, lyricists |
Ain’t no changing us, dangerous serious |
I know ya curious, furious with your trigga |
Your army’s busters ball, Jam Down is paid niggas yeah we get paid |