Back to the previous page

Artist: Prodigal Sunn f/ 12 O'Clock, Inspectah Deck, J. Wells
Album:  Get Money (S)
Song:   Get Money
Typed by: Cno Evil

[12 O'Clock]
Duke, any old way, see I'm a catcher for days
Til my son take the tray, I did the song with Rae
Nutty Professors, we living life crazy better
See me and my brothers do whatever
I'm feeling good, looking good, I play the stay in your neighborhood
Tilts my hood, muthafucka, put your sick
See double O, and light green with the glow
Professional, get my niggas in my show
Ten 10's the dough, drunk til I throw up
The price on them Wu women bikers
Now how many real bitches feeling righteous?
I guess you, I rhyme for the Brooklyn Zu
W-U, and the Two, I bring life in the young gods like Pooh
Scale like amusement parks, heart in the dark
12 get this party to start, plus I pull up in that truck
That's Porsche, play the boss, princess cut
All up in the cross, tell no lie, my chain hang down to my thigh
And I'mma die getting this money before I die
I'm from Brooklyn, Bedstuy, where them niggas stay high
New York, New York niggas stay fly
When I'm in L.A., go have a meeting with Tommy Motala
About the money

[Inspectah Deck]
Big bills, just give me mines on the backhand side, we keep it live
Like, Wes Snipes, busting lead pipes on the side
Head spin like Sprewell rims, lens thumping out the CL Benz, with my female friends
Bay bro, stay low in the grind, totin' the nine
Over time shine, keep niggas focused on mines
He a wank pro, with bankrolls to tranq hoes
Lame flows and stay at shows, he blaze those
Heavy head off the Remy red, on some bullshit
Semi's and full clip, my niggas gon' pull quick
It's not a game, daddy pack a white hot flame
Drop game on the slot that travel hundred block range
We made men, hustle til dawn, bad as Russell Forn
Sure to move the crowd with muscles and arm
It's the madness, the baddest to splash this, gorillas get amped, kid
We at it, don't chance it, don't chance it

[Chorus: J. Wells]
Get that money, get that money
Get that money, get that money
We bout' to get that paper, get that paper
We bout' to get that hustler paper, oh, lord
Glamour and glitz, get that dough
Niggas poppin' Crys', get that dough
Niggas bling the the wrist, get that dough
It's all about the gross on that, but you can't foe

[Prodigal Sunn]
20-03, under the Sun, Brooklyn guns
Young thoroughbread, kept the leads scheming on funds
From the gritty grind, city times, nickels and dimes
Hustle for mine, floating through the city divine
Block the H-Squared, custom suade Louis design
Yours truly, I feel that it's my duty to shine
Do me in time, jail ain't no place to resign
Heavy on the mind, heavy on the brain sustained
Face bitter from the taste of champaigne, ace in the game
Play in the range, bitch niggas sell it fame
Snitching telling lames, caught up in the glamour of dames
See the rules all on your plot of the raw, ya'll straight puss'
While ya'll niggas dush, I smoke that green kush