Breathin'

P-MoneyP-Money 

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P-Money

Peter Wadams, better known by his stage name P-Money, is a New Zealand hip-hop DJ and producer. His notable work includes the hit song "Everything" featuring New Zealand R&B singer Vince Harder, which reached number one on the New Zealand Singles Chart for three weeks in 2008, however he is best known for his recordings with Scribe including the 2003 smash hit "Not Many". Peter Wadams is also credited as co-writer and producer on the 2017 hit "Call On Me" by Australian singer Starley. more »

Year:

2019

3:45

77 Views

Playlists:

#2

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Hold my weed, control my breathin'
I just rolled one, up this evening
Is about half 11, see the smoke all on the ceiling
Need a fee to leave the dwelling
20K or I'm not leaving
They want me on 2AM
They better get the fucking Ps in
Time to let the wifey says "I made you chili"
Go reheat it, I just pulled that face, you pull
When you feel lazy and defeated
I was like, I beg you do it
Top gears on, a brand new season
Plus I hurt my foot on stage, I couldn't make it to the freezer
Not only that, you know that I rap
I pay for this flat, go give me a snack
She gave me a slap, said don't be a twat
We giggle and that, I stay where I'm sat
She get up and does it, like is this what love is?
I know that I'm rubbish, I secretly love it
She bring me a pasta, heavy and I'm glokkin'
I stick on [?], Ca' you won't find me clubbing
Ca' I'm at the summit, I did it and done it
You niggas can suck it, you jealous I run it
I come with your drummers, and do something' thuggish
I run in and gossip, ca' you ain't know nothing
My flavours are lushin', my neighbours are Russian
The gyaldem are blushing, my trainers are custom
You wanna talk tough and you know I'm a glutton
I order the beef and it deaded discussions

Clinical with it I scribble the lyric
I dribble, I spit it
I bill it and lit it
This fire, you feel it?
I feel it, I feel to be liable to kill it
I'm raw and I'm ruckus
I run up and buck 'em
A couple nun chucks, is high when you swing it
A samurai sword, and a star, I'ma fling it
I mean it, I'm innit, I'm cold with it, innit?

Hold my weed, control my breathin'
I just rolled one up this evening
Is a pack of mac, I'm gassed
I pack a bag and get to leanin'
Is a fact ca' junky fat
Ca' I'm sippin' goose, not scrumpy jack
Ca' I sit and do my drunky flat
Like how I'd get this of off rap
I rapped his jaw, he hit the floor
Is he alive? I can't be sure
I can't be right, hooking on left
Hooking no pussies anymore
I ran the light, I went to court
I stood there calm, I'm not distraught
You saw the M, you saw the sport
Don't ask me why, it's what you thought

Hold my weed, control my breathin'
I just rolled one up this evening
Hold my weed, control my breathin'
I just rolled one up this evening
Hold my weed, control my breathin'
I just rolled one up this evening
Hold my weed, control my breathin'
I just rolled one up this evening

Who can top I?
Tool in my hand I'm not nice
One eye closed with smoke, I'm Popeye
Tracksuits, but I got mob ties
Never wear top man, but I walk top guys
We went up Virgil before for Virgil
Racks in the shoe box, made money off white
Behind enemy lines I'm off sight
Up in this city, you'll find in the melody
I got the [?], P what you telling me
Went to the club had to find me your melody
She keep on tellin' me, she robbing energies
She got a BF, don't care for the BS
I told her just do it bae, why are you telling me?
She came with sick head and I came with remedies
Paid for the Uber, straight back to my enemies
(Whoa) I'm murking this
I don't need soundchecks, I got the gift
Went in the room, did the one and the two
And I'm leaving them pissed in a world of shit
Wanna be me, but ain't got the wit
Ain't got the drive, ain't got the whip
You think you're hard, you think you're it
Pull out the sweater and now you got drip
Telling these brothers don't play with the gang
A couple of Christian brothers turned anti
A couple of Muslim brothers go ham
I'm punching these lines so I mess up my hands
Left in the states, still under your state
I wanna go states, but think that I'm banned
Because I get paid, the same as a band
My taxes cost the whole of your brand

You the man on the 'Gram, I'm the man in the south
And I'm rolling about with 10 gram in my mouth
I'm the coldest about, who you know that amounts
If you're dissing P money, I'm scoping him out

I'm rolling about, with gold in my mouth
A fan at my last show, sold me a house
I heard he dissed Ocean, I'm phoning him now
I'm ready, you're knocking, I'm over and out

Take disrespect, I flex new TEC screw face
Man finesse and get huge checks
Ruthless, manna forever be LA who's next?
Screwed in the manner of money, and me a drew ends

Check, 2 guests, 2 plus 2 vets, who's next?
Lord of the Mics got 2 checks
M.o.e. New album, new sets, new best
Relax, I ain't no best

Wouldn't even bother, could another? Nothin' promised
And I pity all the brothers, could've never, not another
Then I might have animosity, and floating on her stomach
And an itty bitty done a likkle dibble daffer, cutting in my liver

Whenever ready, you can tell 'em that I'm ready
I been standing with a semi, like I'm ready to bury
Anybody named Shelly, I am not for the telly
You can tell that I'm heavy got drive like a Chevy

Hold my weed, control my breathin'
I just rolled one up this evening
Hold my weed, control my breathin'
I just rolled one up this evening
Hold my weed, control my breathin'
I just rolled one up this evening
Hold my weed, control my breathin'
I just rolled one up this evening

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