Lyrics:
bout a bill
But that money don't come over God
Keep it real
This what I've been made to do
So I'm staying tru
I'm staying tru
My worst fear is not being
On the road a head the only thing I'm focused on
Is gettin' to the money makin' sure the money long
A race against the clock until I hear them hit the gong
on a money makin mission ain’t no half steppin
Either u in or u out, ain’t no half reppin
Cause when the time come, bets believe that ima see
Who was loyal
Feelin' these pills, they hittin' my stomach
Feelin' this bitch, she only want money
She ridin' my dick, just like a Harley
I told her friends to come
Just like distilled, I keep it hunnid, ain't no stuntin'
I never fake all of my money, yeah, I love it I don't really pop with women, rock with hoes
me in the direction we chill
I'm only movin by the grace of the Lord, it's God's hill
Huh, go get that vittle money, for real
They better not fuck with
money in a duffle bag
Fuck 'em all, wet 'em and we gotta double back
The homie whippin' chickens in his momma kitchen
On the mission, said he get it
motherfucker
With my nigga Six2
Young Cadillac Seville the Mack
Me? Just call me DOC
The Mack Seville tell 'em
What the bidness is, my nigga
Imagine a young man
a fly away, away, away, away
But I know I can call on when I'm all alone
When ever I fall, fall, fall
[Chorus] 2x
[Verse 2: Wish Bone]
Situation got
ammunition
So mission accomplished
[Bizzy]
We're movin' in heaven's movie, my lil' nigga, watch out!
Waitin' for warfare
Waitin' for warfare, warfare,
'Cause I got a little money, can't see it for
The likes of my eyes
Damn! Can't even get out the door good
She's on my line hittin' me on my hip
makin' cream
On the drug scene, fuck a football team
Riskin' ruptured spleens by the age of sixteen
Hearin' the coach scream ain't my lifetime dream
I
wit,
Cause I run through and look at you like, "Where the money at?"
You ought be ashamed of you chain, I'm makin' fun of that,
Charm flickin' from
Licorice nigga like "You give 'em what he deserve"
Word, brought it up, concern, put a microphone
Thug - money makin, pistol packin, juniors
Jumpin for
face
And my money makin' money, where your bands go? (Ayy)
Bitch, fuck around (ayy)
I'ma pull up (ayy), and I'll catch another case
Like, damn, shit,
Switch up my sims if you on my line fronting
This 3-2-8 go thru the dash like it's nothing
Surrounded by niggas who all stand for something
Loyalty rare
them little minitrucks
We're puttin' in work by stackin' them
Money make me sell out my jeweler
If I'm shinin' off gats
And rollin' on dubs
Get your
rollin' ten deep
And shove this shoe up in your shit far as ten feet
Creep by creep cause I'm in this shit deep
Never ever caught slippinn' bitch cause I
[Chorus - Yung Joc]:
Fresh pair of J's
I hit the club stuntin
With a fresh pair of shades
Makin that money
Everybody gettin paid
And everything lovely
it does is make me sad
It became part of the mission to start writin bout the crap
This shit that I'm speakin is real but y'all won't give it a chance
'Cause I'm a street genius
With a unique penis
Got fly chicks on my dick
That don't even speak English
I'm makin' ducks shed much tears
I buck queers i
on a mission!
Group one:
Kill the competition
Sell the next edition
While we're out there
Carrying the banner is the –
Group two:
Look, they're puttin' up
I am the king I can do the impossible
2 Fast by my side with this force we unstoppable
Above and beyond and I'm feeling phenomenal
TayDaBul
That's my
down get down, if you ain't 2 fingers peace
You can tell by the car we's some good [unverified] stars
Quarter backin', mackin' hoes pullin' ass from
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