Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song One for the Money, artist - Royce 5'9. Date of issue: 10.08.2017
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
One for the Money |
| It goes one for the money, two for that paper |
| Three for that drive to get it |
| You gotta dive in it |
| I guess that’s just in my spirit |
| Nigga, I will walk, fly, try to get it |
| I’m a representation of triumph |
| I don’t lose, therefore I guess it’s a waste of trying |
| I’m the check man |
| I do this shit strictly for the money every day |
| The love went away with X-Clan |
| The love kept me on the underground |
| Each verse went deeper and deeper so I had to resurface |
| Get the cake and keep working |
| Demonstrate a lesson to them every album |
| I can teach perfect |
| I ain’t a cheap person |
| But if you wound up underground and you ain’t hungry then you at least thirsty |
| The streets where it’s at my nigga |
| Blacking out ‘til the streets get cracked my nigga |
| It goes one for the money, two for that paper |
| Three for that drive to get it |
| Four’s for the raw metaphors and the way I spit it |
| Nigga I will walk, fly, try to get it |
| It goes one for the money, two for that paper |
| Three for that drive to get it |
| Four’s for the raw metaphors and the way I spit it |
| And y’all will not eat until we get finished |
| Yo the kid got game, the kid get props |
| The kid spitting the flames, the kid don’t stop |
| The kid been grinding now he’s getting that guap |
| I was visiting the bottom now I’m getting to the top |
| Doing what we do, that’s what we get the props for |
| This is for my dudes living like rock stars |
| One two three, three two one |
| Yeah the haters over there, but I keep ignoring them |
| I’m in the pit any day, just like a stockbroker |
| Nah, I ain’t flossing, I’m just living how I’m supposed to |
| Y’all get straight flushed like poker |
| Never thought it’d be Skillz on your baby mama’s poster |
| Told ya, doubters get knocked off |
| You ain’t believe me, but nines bout to pop off |
| That’s how we do it and we stack the stacks |
| It’s your boy Skillz homey, million dollar backpack |
| Too many clowns sweet and hard, nut and honey |
| Chasing fast cars and dreams, nuttin honeys |
| You know it life ain’t nothing funny |
| I went from bluffing dummies to world tours man, it’s nothing money |
| I’m surrounded by investors with Winchesters |
| Super X black shadow chin testers |
| I don’t run with jesters |
| So if I give you a pass know it was just a slim gesture |
| Too many niggas swallowing |
| Too many niggas running around with no business, that be frolicking |
| You in a bad space wallowing |
| I’m in the GL five-and-a-half with the bright halogen |
| Gucci moccasins, Benetton sweater |
| J.O.K. |
| there’s never been a don better |
| Southern Bluefin prawns, ameretta |
| I fuck life with a vendetta |
| It goes one for the money, two for that paper |
| Three for that drive to get it |
| Four’s for the raw metaphors and the way I spit it |
| Nigga I will walk, fly, try to get it |
| It goes one for the money, two for that paper |
| Three for that drive to get it |
| Four’s for the raw metaphors and the way I spit it |
| And y’all will not eat until we get finished |