Lyrics Mo Money - Young Bleed

Mo Money

9−7, 9−8, let’s get this bitch to set the record straight, y’know what I’m
sayin'
Concentration Camp in the house
We ain’t playin wit' 'em
Nigga what
If it don’t make dollar then it don’t make cent
To a ghetto pimp, nigga hop 'cross the fence
Early in the mornin', my business with your mug on mean
Sideways, throwin' it up, how them puppies lean
Now sometimes we rhyme fast, sometime we rhyme slow
But wherever we go, we stay strapped down fo' sho
You ain’t know?
It’s a cold world gotta keep it jumpin' like jets
And it’s like that nigga
Look I’m a lay-low ass nigga, ain’t no class figure
Talk shit about my clan and I’m gonna break yo ass nigga
I’m 'bout cash nigga that’s all I’m tryin' to see
I can give a fuck less who you tryin' to be
I got my mind on some shit I’m gonna jack a vibe for me
I’m with a sick group of vics that’s down to ride for me, bitch
You see shit done hit the fan and this camp ain’t comin' like we is
'cause we the sickest clan
Now all my niggas put your nuts in your hands if it ain’t no hope
Slide your foot and tell 'em hoes get the dick out they throat
I’m copin' day-by-day but I really can’t wait 'til I get my hands on some loot
Rollin' state to state to get face-to-face
With the boss and be like fuck you
Duck who?
I’d love to, but I’m not quite that bitch fight
So gank the hoe, lemme get this Gs
And be on the way to get my shit right
'Cause midnight gon' call for some weed to smoke
When these hoes shake they titties hollerin' «Go lay low!»
'Cause I gots to get mo' money, mo' money
Can’t get my issue with no money, no money
Nigga gots to get mo' money, mo' money
Can’t get my issue with no money, no money
I gots to get mo' money, mo' money
Can’t get my issue with no money, no money
Nigga gots to get mo' money, mo' money
Can’t get my issue with no money, no money
Sometimes I have fatal visions of being paid when I be broke
So you know, like I know, that you know
This shit I stress is hard to cope
I’m dope, I still focus on my paper
Plottin' schemes so when I get my paper
I can make my paper greater
A faker, you got the game fucked up
Penitentiary bound, you wanna clown, I’ll make your heart pound
Down and dirty with this thirty-thirty
Caught me slippin' with a pound of weed and a verdict
Now when you get your cheese, watch out for broke-ass hoes
Don’t give 'em nothin' free but dick and then show 'em the door
Keep your ol' lady 'cause you done wanna cut it up and have fun
And pull a high school freak, 'cause they young and dumb
A Foot Locker broad to keep you laced with kicks and 'fits
'Bout three college hoes, 'cause they crazy about dick
Get you a married hoe, just so you could test your game
Get the credit card and spend up all the husband’s change
I can’t let another nigga’s problems worry me
Not unless we negotiatin' for some currency, ya dig
Fuck the pigs 'cause they bust they wigs, for nothin'
Think a nigga movin' somethin', but really they just be stuntin'
Frontin', like they be pushin' weight and at the same time
They don’t even know that they playin' themself while lookin' fake
A crooked snake could easily slip in between
A nigga and his dream for bein' reign supreme
With the green, know what I mean?
Tryin' to get mo' money, mo' money
Can’t get my issue with no money, no money
Nigga!
I’m tryin' to get mo' money, mo' money
Can’t get my issue with no money, no money
Nigga!
I’m tryin' to get mo' money, mo' money
Can’t get my issue with no money, no money
I’m tryin' to get mo' money, mo' money
Can’t get my issue with no money, no money
Nigga!
(Tryin' to get mo' money, mo' money)
Concentration Camp in this bitch, ya heard me?
Lay Low
Lucky Knuckles
Young Bleed
Big Happy
And this how we doin' this thing, ya heard me?
Straight out the South
Happy in this bitch, for the 9−7
Honor proves anything
Tryin' to get mo' money
Sixty-seven three
And your mob and me, I have no issue with any of you