Lyrics:
To The 9th Flo
Com’On Y’all
Pitching Penny’s under the building!
Rest In Peace Cleo He Use To Throw Money Out The Window Just To See Us Go Crazy
Rest In
gon copy this
Big flo like tsunanmi YEH
Money with the commas
YEH
Green backs like iguanas
YEH
I wanna live
Like no tomorrow
Yeh yeh yeh
No
I told ya fuckin' ass I be back
In a brand new Fleetwood Cadillac
License plate say money makin' nigga fa sho
Chillin' by ya boy house kissin'
or a lighta(lighter)
And listen to a young rida(rider)
On the side of Pimp double tril
Make you lighter than a feather in yo DOB hat
Bitch now listen can you solve that
now she know she gotta get the money
Cause she fuckin' with a (p-pimp like me)
Gotta serve a trick at the after party
Cause I got her body in my mind
now she know she gotta get the money
Cause she fuckin' with a (p-pimp like me)
Gotta serve a trick at the after party
Cause I got her body in my mind
Feel like Im stuck inside my ways, she changin' it all
They say its money on the road, Im making it all
She 'gon really hold it down, she got it
Do
Money is the motive I'm just focused on the cheese
If you don't mention money, ain't no need to mention me
Rillo got a dream, cash out wit the team
think about money when I'm sleepin' and I'm woke (for real though)
On that Detroit shit, bitch, this on the flo' (uh)
Ballin' on these fuck niggas
(mornin') fo sho I'll be pimpin' like a pro
All the bad bitches know when the money hit the flo' better pick it up
(Pick it up pick it up pick it up)
Ugh, I don't wanna do this no mo' (no mo')
But dis the only thang that I know
I keep a pistol in my back, and a gauge on the flo' (flo')
The laws
G's with tha triple gold spokes
Creep in the door with my pockets on swole
Limp across tha flo like both of my legs broke
Slide to tha bar to get me
a million offa users.
Car and the money the same color of mucous,
Go get it his self they call 'em ghetto Frank Lucas.
Cocaine,
He got it by the boulder,
ain't twerkin BITCH BY YI YI
Shawty let me see ya shake it on the flo' butt-naked
Show-stoppin pussy-poppin; damn I like the way you take it
Up
ready to end it yet
I'm 24 years old, I ain't even beginned it yet
I just started having money, I ain't got a chance to spend it yet
I want to be
away like you fake
Straight out PA short Texas, servin' trees on the West
A money makin' machine, nigga I do it best
With the cream and the cash, by any
ain’t gone get ahead by feelin sorry gotta go for it
I’m Tired of makin money but ain’t got nothin to sho for it I’m over this
Eh Eh!
What do u do
When
might get it to yo' ass by the summer
Who? Peter Pancakin' with a thumper
You, know we crank the club
Black magic in here, so drank it up
And you
Section 8, Smoke-A-Lot'll stay placed in Berlin
By the end of 9-8, hell yeah
Then I'll be straight
Fuck off a hundred G's and still got money up in
Get yo' ass off the flo' {*4X*}
[Chorus]
It's a wrap then (HEY!) grab the Mac-10 (YEAH!)
Plan of action (WHAT?) kill the Captain (YEAH!)
Excuse
a million offa users.
Car and the money the same color of mucous,
Go get it his self they call 'em ghetto Frank Lucas.
Cocaine,
He got it by the boulder,
Count that money down as if I'm on a mission
Bitch I gotta get it I'm chasing these blue Benji's
Loved by the D-boys
Feared by the fuck niggas
Respected
on the opposite lane
Without headlights and everything was about to change
Everything can change so fast
Only memories last
Tears can dry and money can't buy
All
that duty
So they can't do nothin' to me
Seventh flo' with the 'dro now, nineteenth flo' by the rocks now
Gettin' paper make me feel like
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