The Game - Money | Текст песни

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• The Game
• Money

Kanye told me that Jesus Walks in '04
But I grew up around Impalas and drug lords
Welcome to Los Angeles, palm trees and drug stores
All we know is Roc's the president like Mt Rushmore
Fuck the police, they hop out and bust doors
I ain't going back to jail nigga thats what I flush for
My money or my glock?
Who do I trust more?
I dunno, it's the prolly the one that I touch more
Guess its the green, coz money motivate niggas
And my Rolex races, coz it hates niggas
I only used to sell 8's, like that Laker nigga
Now I'm moving 24's like I play at the Staples Center
You might miss The Game so nigga don't blink
My Phantom stand out like Frank Lucas' mink
So go ahead and think like Frank Lucas think
Somebody will find your brains all over the kitchen sink about...

[Chorus]

(Money)
Dead presidents, big paper
(For the money)
Benjamins, skycrapers, my niggas get
(Money)
My bitches get
(Money)
Like the strippers get
From the block to the club I'll make it rain
(Money)
In California niggas die
(For the money)
From the South to New York them bullets fly for the
(Money)
Don't stop getting
(Money)
It don't matter where you from if you hustle motherfucker keep getting that
(Money)

[Verse 2]

Yeah
I get it, that Baby and Slim cash money
All the jury on your whole crew, thats my tax money
That Pablo, Escobar crack money
That LeBron first Nike contract money
That make it rain on my niggas throwing stack money
Stack it to the ceiling then call it Shaq money
That walk in the club, straight to the back money
Flava love, delicious sitting on my lap money
That rat money, niggas get clapped money
Air Force One's don't bend when I track money
Ooooh, I'm rich like Porter
Having alpo nightmares, whipping that water
Like McDonalds I was flipping them orders
In that '02 Porsche truck weaving through borders
I was still flipping quarters when I made my first mill
I'm a bottom dollar, 50 Cent ain't real

[Chorus]

(Money)
Dead presidents, big paper
(For the money)
Benjamins, skycrapers, my niggas get
(Money)
My bitches get
(Money)
Like the strippers get
From the block to the club I'll make it rain
(Money)
In California niggas die
(For the money)
From the South to New York them bullets fly for the
(Money)
Don't stop getting
(Money)
It don't matter where you from if you hustle motherfucker keep getting that
(Money)

[Verse 3]

Somebody tell Snoop to pop open them briefcases
Order that Patron, tell em we three cases
Fuck a black card, you seen these green faces?
Look at my chest, now you seen Vegas
Treat my money like the Cristyle that we wasted
Coz I'm a money machine, I can remake it
You a fool thinking that Freddie could see Jason
I been iced-out, like who the fuck need Jacob
The Doc told me to be patient
But I want money like Dwight Howard
Next I'll be a free agent
I'm tryna make enough money so I can feed Asians
Half-Asians in the kitchen cooking in Louis V aprons
Word to Martha Stuart
If I can park a Buick
Then I can flip a greens truck, I got the heart to do it
Ball like the nigga Tony Parker do it
Speak no English but De Niro I talk it fluent

[Chorus]

(Money)
Dead presidents, big paper
(For the money)
Benjamins, skycrapers, my niggas get
(Money)
My bitches get
(Money)
Like the strippers get
From the block to the club I'll make it rain
(Money)
In California niggas die
(For the money)
From the South to New York them bullets fly for the
(Money)
Don't stop getting
(Money)
It don't matter where you from if you hustle motherfucker keep getting that
(Money)

Get, get, get, get, get-getcha paper, boy
Get, get, get, get, get-getcha paper, boy
Get, get, get, get, get-getcha paper,

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