Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Ching Ching, artist - Ms. Jade. Album song Girl Interrupted, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 31.12.2001
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Beat Club, Interscope
Song language: English
Ching Ching |
Ba da ba ba ching ching ching |
Ba da ba ba ba ching ching |
What about the money that I spent up today |
(*Hook goes on in background of song) |
Tim took you from ghetto to class, how to hold your glass |
To Fendi’s to bags, for holdin’your cash |
People was seein’you pass, like right through the drapes |
I brought you the private, ounce wit the gates |
Thinkin’that stuff make me faint, just whistle real fast |
Cougars roll in the grass, same cat on your Jag |
Why your keepin’them tabs, and callin’me for |
It cost every minute, and you know I’m on tour |
And I’m deeply committed, although I’m forgettin' |
Sometimes while hittin’it, different names would slip |
If I been wit a chick, check me miss |
Your complexion switched, honey you been on trips |
But you don’t appreciate this, till your back in the Jetta |
No iceberg you own, just Angelica’s sweaters |
If the steaks ain’t T-Bone, you ain’t properly fed |
Hun tonight is bet burgers, no cheese on the bread |
And I say |
What about my ching ching ching |
What about my bling bling bling |
What about the money that I spent up today |
What about his ching ching ching |
What about his bling bling bling |
What about his money that I spent up today |
Boy you act like I need ya, came down wit amnesia |
Ran to y’alls in the meters, nuttin’but hate in between us Now you come poppin’this shit, nigga I made you rich |
Introduce you to Cris, flipped and secured your bricks |
Even though them kids ain’t mine, let 'em call me mami |
I deserve them dollars, trip to the Bahamas and Porsche rotten |
I washed your clothes, put up wit your hoes |
Never fucked up yo dough, put the G in ya glow |
So what you sweatin’me fo', I promoted them tours |
I was poppin’them fours, run in and outta them stores |
I cleaned up your spot, poured your brandy and scotch |
Razor blades to the rocks, even lied to the cops |
Played your wifey and mother, cousin, sister and brother |
Accountant lawyer and lover, I’m through dealin’wit suckers |
Shuttin’and lockin’the door, bout to settle the score |
You wastin’my time, nigga, but what about my nigga |
What about your ching ching ching |
What about your bling bling bling |
So what you spent up all your money today |
What about his ching ching ching |
What about his bling bling bling |
What about his money that I spent up today |
Boy money ain’t everything, married minus the ring |
Frequent Coach, mink, coats, cruises on ships and boats |
I gave you way more, can’t there bout all your bulls |
Since day one it was ours it never was yours |
Uh — look at the bigger picture, study the ghetto scripture |
Held your back when you was broke frontin’cuz now you richer |
No frontin’in that there, Ms. Jade is everywhere |
Enough talkin’I’m through, my lawyer will be callin’you |
All this money that he’s spendin', you owe me everything |
I wanna tell him it’s not his money, he tell me to go away, baby |
Wish he’d only give me a chance to show him that I’m alive |
I’m gonna be there and you need peace and tender all up in his life |
Yeah, yeah, yeah |
What about my ching ching ching |
What about my bling bling bling |
What about the money that I spent up today |
What about his ching ching ching |
What about his bling bling bling |
What about his money that I spent up today |
Ba da ba ba ching ching ching |
Ba da ba ba ba ching ching |
What about the money that I spent up today |