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

Текст песни Tq - Gotta Make That Money

Tq - Gotta Make That Money слова песни

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!!!

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Tq

Gotta Make That Money

Текст песни Tq - Gotta Make That Money

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