Текст песни Tq - Gotta Make That Money, слова песни Tq

Текст песни Tq - Gotta Make That Money

Tq - Gotta Make That Money слова песни

Yeah, uh, mm, give it to meMmmmm, yeahYeah yeahMm, no no no noSeems like every night, right before I go to sleepI say a little prayer to the lord that he keep meI used to be the kind of nigga that didnt give a fuck about nobodyThe slightest little thing would make me madEspecially if it involved my moneyAnd I cant tell you bout the next manBut I love pullin up in big sedansWit all my niggas in a caravanHolla if ya hear meNow Id love to break ya, bring ya downAnd take you back againBut that would take too much timeAnd I gotta hit the streets again1 - and even if the sun dont shine, Ill still be hustlinGotta get that money, make that moneyKeep it comin, if it takes all night, cant be strugglinSomebody come help meCan ya tell me why is slangin always on my mind? Must be bugginI guess they figured I would quit and they could get meIf they tapped my lineDont mean nothinIll still be hustlinNow I hate to be the one to tell ya, but I dont mindNiggas can hate if they want toAnd Im still gon get mineYes, I still be ridin in a sc on dubsAnd I wont be seen at none of the clubsAnd uh, all your women would know who I was(and that you wouldnt like) and that you wouldnt likeIf everybody kept they mind on gettin they skrillaWont be no time to fuck with mine, so wont be no killinIll just sit back and recline, smoke this phillyAnd keep my fingers laced with diamonds like big willieBut for now, catch me on compton avenueWith a handful of hundreds and a strap or twoPuttin it down for my niggas like they told me toYou need some candy, so wont you come thruRepeat 1[e-40]Sometimes Im suited upSometimes Im bummy, lookin like a crookHair all nappy and wild - we call it the full nukMashin, mobbin and thrashinWoopers, horns and tweeters blastinThrobbin, hoggin and dogginGodzilla ballinWhen its money callin? war-rankJust ride your runners foolBe bout your bankSittin fat like ? All about my money, duffle bags full of scratchArtillery fire arms and gatsReep my mill, cap my feddy, get my bread? on my tail, but Im tryin for them, but they want me deadCuz I made it out the game without a clue or traceUsed to sell that bassRock 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 itCheck it outMoney scheminPrince albert, chocolate philly, glocks garcia vegasBlack and miles on the pack again (yes)What you know about that? Tq and e-40 fonzarelli a.k.a. charlie hustle, easyBitch!!!

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Tq

Gotta Make That Money

Текст песни Tq - Gotta Make That Money

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