Gotta Make That Money Lyrics

Gotta Make That Money lyrics

featuring E 40

Yeah uh mm give it to me
Mmmmm yeah
Yeah yeah
Mm
no no no no

Seems like every night right before I go to sleep
I say a
little prayer to the Lord that he keep me
I used to be the kind of nigga that
didn't give a fuck about nobody
The slightest little thing would make me
mad
Especially if it involved my money

And I can't tell you 'bout the
next man
But I love pullin' up in big sedans
Wit all my niggas in a
caravan
Holla if ya hear me

Now I'd love to break ya, bring ya
down
And take you back again
But that would take too much time
And I
gotta hit the streets again

1 - And even if the sun don't shine, I'll
still be hustlin'
Gotta get that money, make that money
Keep it comin',
if it takes all night, can't be strugglin'
Somebody come help me
Can ya
tell me why is slangin' always on my mind?
Must be buggin'
I guess they
figured I would quit and they could get me
If they tapped my line
Don't
mean nothin'
I'll still be hustlin'

Now I hate to be the one to tell
ya, but I don't mind
Niggas can hate if they want to
And I'm still gon'
get mine
Yes, I still be ridin' in a SC on dubs
And I won't be seen at
none of the clubs
And uh, all your women would know who I was
(And that
you wouldn't like) And that you wouldn't like

If everybody kept they
mind on gettin' they skrilla
Won't be no time to fuck with mine, so won't be
no killin'
I'll just sit back and recline, smoke this Philly
And keep my
fingers laced with diamonds like Big Willie

But for now, catch me on
Compton Avenue
With a handful of hundreds and a strap or two
Puttin' it
down for my niggas like they told me to
You need some candy, so won't you
come thru

Repeat 1

[E-40]
Sometimes I'm suited up
Sometimes
I'm bummy, lookin' like a crook
Hair all nappy and wild - we call it the full
nuk
Mashin', mobbin' and thrashin'
Woopers, horns and tweeters
blastin'
Throbbin', hoggin' and doggin'
Godzilla ballin'
When it's
money callin'? War-rank
Just ride your runners fool
Be 'bout your
bank
Sittin' fat like ?
All about my money, duffle bags full of
scratch
Artillery fire arms and gats
Reep my mill, cap my feddy, get my
bread
? on my tail, but I'm tryin' for them, but they want me dead
Cuz I
made it out the game without a clue or trace
Used to sell that bass
Rock
cavvy candy, ??????
Never had to stop, enemies on the block, they knew it
(they knew it)
As far as I was concerned, ? man I do it
Check it
out
Money schemin'
Prince Albert, Chocolate Philly, Glocks Garcia
Vegas
Black and Miles on the pack again (yes)
What you know about
that?
TQ and E-40 Fonzarelli a.k.a. Charlie Hustle, easy
Biotch!!!