Lyrics:
Kaream
They want more Morpheme , They Need more more Me
Vera Wang my Hoe She Neat Doche Gabanna my Feet They want more Morpheme They Need More Me
hurry up, bang
Open your mouth 'cause here comes my wang
I'm Violent J, the southwest skitso
Born in a big top, magical mijisto
Dead body disco,
it's curtains
What they don't know won't hurt
Uh, they searching on him, I got the gat in my skirt
Yeah, just clowning fools
And my dude's giving
I had Cadillacs in my future
Debutantes in my past
I made a deal with the devil
For a whole lot of money
Thinkin' it would last and last
But a fool
Bring it in, can you feel, it can you feel it
It's all about the money, baby
Big Eightball straight up out the south to you
Honey coated money fool
in they captions
I might just hit a stain then blow his stimmy on some Raf shit
Niggas lacking class, all my linens came from Sak's Fifth
Tuscan
ngiyam'halisa
Kancane baby, iyangsabisa
Banomona baby, oShaneece
Just by his sight wang'manzisa
I been a bad bitch won't you Punish
Rock my heels
I know he
For your boy
I'm watchin' Freaks and Geeks with the trampoline on the floor
I'm tryna pop the McLaren with the vertical doors nigga
Money
Bring it in can you feel it can you feel it
It's all about the money baby
Big Eightball straight up out the south to you
Honey coated money fool
Bought by the dope fiends smokin'
And what about the brother wit' the good jobs
Savin' money and workin' hard?
Bought a house for his wife and kids
Ya
facility to await deportation
It looked like the rent was going to be late again
James heard the door open and his nose was assaulted by
Patchouli
Swerve with the goons (swerve)
Big stepper, I just came from the moon (step, moon)
I'm smokin' a real one (static is real)
I'm workin' a fool
got me by the necks haha
With my troubled past I can't even get me a job
My partner rap he got his own record label they doing their thang
If I
son
To shed his blood
Show that pain is love
But I won't cry
Cause I live to die
Wit my mind on my money
And my guns in the sky
And my guns in
this out
[verse 1]
Now here's this story about this fool
I knew from back in the day
His name was Mike, he used to kick raps around the way
I used
of poetic-genius DNA 716 in my DNA
Every day, make money and pray
Holy Father, he said, "Pay attention"
Uncle Stevie got his throat slit ear to ear
Word to life,
stay strapped for the shit
That was brought to him
This nigga was a motherfuckin’ fool
Only 13, fuckin’ bitches in high school
Laid back, his game was
You better count your money.
You better count money
(ghetto cowboy)
(ghetto cowboy)
You better count your money.
You better count money
Welcome to the boot, welcome to the boot
Throw that money out the roof, we gone act a fool
Welcome to the boot, welcome to the boot
Throw that money
hesitate to put a nigga on his back
"Ooh-wee, that's that nigga owe you that grip"
"Yeah, there that fool is" (What's up?)
"Well break him off proper
One day I wanna make big profits, but right now I’m getting paid by the hour.
But an old black man, in an old mini van, had a saying that knowledge
One day I wanna make big profits, but right now I’m getting paid by the hour.
But an old black man, in an old mini van, had a saying that knowledge
the heat wave
Waiting to make the rain come
Gain some, ingrained from the same tongue
Gan tell by how I bang
Some everybody wang chung
Free-throw, feeble it
You better count your money
You better count your money (Ghetto Cowboy)
You better count your money
You better count your money (Ghetto Cowboy)
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