Lyrics:
concentration
Losin' my patience, hard times for goodness sake'n
I'm tryin' to make it through these hard times (hard, times)
I'm tryin' to make it through
of you bitches, I'll put yo brain in stitches
This remix for real niggaz who get money to trenches
Check my resume nigga, I got that one hitta quitta
I came up hard, selling that hard, I made it out
Hallelujah
A lot of em fraud, they call the Serg, figured it out
Hallelujah
Pastors be fake, I see
ring-ting-A-ling
for the maid.
If you happen To be rich
And you find you are
Left by your lover,
Though you moan and you groan
Quite a lot,
You can take it
you hatred
There's no applause for ya and success is hard for ya
There's enemies, envy, with green my niggas, lawnmower
And I'm on tour, Jordan 4's, Tom
me how to spend it
(yeah) , I work hard for it (Work hard)
My relationship with God got me
Richer than my pastors (Pastors)
Niggas be bringin' up
And you, wha? Nigga
I ain't scared of you bitches, I'll put yo' brain in stitches
This remix for real niggaz who get money to trenches
Check my resume
[Pastor Troy]
Verse 1:
Introduction to a lunatic (come on)?huh, y'all playing (come on)
Got AK's for tha stupid shit (come on)?huh,
And that's all
on them hoes but for me he's a baby (mwah)
Woo, I'm having my way with this shit (huh)
I'm on the way to the money (ugh), then on the way to the dick
I
sweeter than honey
I'm on these streets in a Benz, see me getting this money
Can't forget about my friends, yelling "Free Rummy"
Real nigga for real,
bruised up, scarred hard
All you wanna know is (where my money at?)
She thought he'd call (where my money at?)
[Chorus: (Akon) ] (x2)
Cos I'mma tell you
"LA Dub Z"
"Troy L, stop playing with em"
Know the moment's been coming, I been waiting for a long time
Long nights, long line, it's been a long
The project babies gang bangin', hangin' and pistol slangin'
Pastor Troy ass ready, to killin' and stealin' just to make it
I pistol-whipped a nigga for
Went to the rib shack, ordered chicken and the collard
greens but there's no money left in my wallet
But I kept fifty cents for my juice (word?)
Now we
murdered by the pastor's wife and child
Just to protect they lifestyle
Yeah a lot of shit on my mind
And I still got some questions I be looking for signs
gon' shake her ass for the money
I be living fast for the money aTL ATL ATL
Nigga taking chances for the money
Still hustle hard for the money
Nigga
road homies enabled
Still making money but I ain't got no label
Enticed by my friends I ain't disabled
When I say only the the family they thee only
Mannie Fresh, Lil' Wayne and Turk
Baby and BG
The HB's with Strings on the cd-Its all gravy
Wait till you see us on TV
I'm Juvenile it ain't hard for you
Money
I ain’t living for it
It ain’t all about. Money
No grip on me
Im talking that. Ohhhh
Have your whole life set
Or upset about. Money
Blocking
match my green.
Killer, Pastor, and Koopa are the master machine.
[Chorus]
[Pastor Troy]
Y'all know me, it's P.T.
Well I un huh and all of that,
of you bitches, I'll put yo' brain in stitches
This remix for real niggaz who get money to trenches
Check my resume nigga, I got that one hitta quitta
marry money 'cause money's a faithful bitch
If it ain't one thang its ten more so fuck another
Surrounded by undercovers everytime they see they sucker
My
Ayo times is hard but we get thru em
And even tho it's crime involved
We had to do em by any means
Malcolm x marks the spot
I went from riding bikes
the limit I'm feeling hot I work hard plus I look so fly
I do it for the money hell yeah for the money
I do it for the money hell yeah for the money
I do it
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