Lyrics My Money Gets Jealous - Paull Wall & Chamillionaire

My Money Gets Jealous

Koopa!
I said I never cheat on my money
Its funny how hoes don’t believe me
Watts, Madd Hatta and Cat had her
But gave her to me cause I’m greedy
Don’t be touchin all on my money
Cause that make me honey look sleazy
Gettin paid is like good sex
Cause my money comes easy
My fat stack be the reason
Nappy head hoes wanna trap me
They be like «don't he look exactly like my son?
He the pappy»
Haters be making my dough unhappy
You should gimme my props
For makin' my cash the proper way
Instead of coming to pop ya
Dont blame us for visions of princess cuts on our fingers
Big houses, candy paint and big swangas yeah
If ain’t about no money don’t call my pager
Because My Money Gets Jealous
Blame us we ballin so hard
They think we drug slangas
We just entertainers
Don’t point your fingers yeah
I’d rather be rich than be broke and famous
Because My Money Gets Jealous
Listen, see I use to sit at a bus stop
And try to holla at a broad
I’d ask her for her number to call
She’d laugh and tell a player «Nah»
Take a bus a block and stop I
Hop in my candy car, with Texas plates
Pop the trunk while the neon lights say «aaawwww»
I bet you feel stupid, Got to confess the truth is
Bullet-proof vest on my chest
So I can’t get shot by Cupid
Man, man, I’m the man
But ladies can’t understand
How I can marry my grands
With no wedding band or best man
Who is it?
Here Lizard, Lizard, Lizard
Pretty red bones and hot yellows
In high heels trying to get us
To treat em' like some Cinderellas, naah
«My Money Get Jealous»
We got tickets is what the tell us
The bail bond mail us letters
And tell us the police coming to get us, so
«My Money Get Jealous»
Uncle Sam doesn’t want to let us to
Ball on 20 inch propellers
Gimme my cut is what he tell us, no
«My Money Get Jealous»
Can’t even trust my own fellas
Some got secret vendettas
Probably plotting about trying to get us
«My Money Get Jealous»
You never know me and Madd Hatta might
Take a flight to Nevada right
Near the ring at the Tyson fight
But I’m sitting next to Evanders wife
Never tricking dough.
This no
Rose pedals, no candle-light
If you want to see a «G»
Don’t ask me go ask Vanna White
Koopa spend a grand at night
Want a show?
I demand a price
That’s right because I’m hot as a damn can
Of Louisiana spice
Never bite the hand that writes the checks
Or you’ll go broke
Ugh cause you see me grippin' oak
Or do you wish for me to choke
Got to stay on your paper-chase
And get your change
Because you don’t know how long you’ll last in this game
Visions of twankies twisting while I’m grippin grain
This girl in the passenger seat
I don’t know her name
She said if I just let her hop up on my thang
She put it on me and I never be the same
That’d be nice but I do not think
That that’s going to do a thang
I’m married to my change
And that will never change, man