歌词
A'ight now this is how we gonna do this shit
You know what I'm saying
Niggaz wassn't out in the streets back then
When was doing this shit son
You know what I'm mean
Yeah check the story
I done flushed bags of powder down project toilets
You could of found of me on the steps dusted
Unable to call it
Jums in my pocket the rental was stolen tapping pockets
On the local drug dealers just to see what they holding
I know niggaz with crack viles stuck to they colon
The acid done bubbled up
Now they stomach's is swollen
That just life in the hood
Surrounded class who we bag in our stash
The ultraviolet haze we hit it and pass
We toast to the ghost of old days
Yeah old ager hump
We rap renegades must stay paid
Get money get money
Get money ghost get money
Get money get money
Get money ghost get money
Big fluffed out gooses on stan smiths
The housing cops can suck our dicks we jumping out
Of convertible matchbox shits next drip inhaling
Chilling my throat frozen my orange brick
Bottles of cru'
Bitches with baby phats they swinging ax
They singing you still blinging
Daddy now bring it back
The smokest rap nigga honey
I'mma need A match
To bust the game wide open I'mma need an ax
I juggle this practice smuggle heroin in the cactus
Keep A hood I still go and f**k A fat bitch
Actress slinging the backs of five cleopatras
A cocaine chef I stretch money like elastic negga
My raps is bigger dynamics with the muscle advantage
Jake cutler on dust when I blam shit
Get money get money
Get money ghost get money
Get money get money
Get money ghost get money
Yo we been bagging since 18 kid
Polo rugs on with gloves on
Rented cars fronting on winning broads
Gum slow half moon leather pants avia' days
Keep your hands off my blunt and my waves
Beneton superman bomb
Everybody in the lobby we clapping
Hats on protecting your moms you know how we play
Spray something down if the team say
It's on I dedicate my lines to the pj's
Triple beams pyrex jars smoking nickle weeds
All we did is look mad fly icicle rings
Whatever homeboy you want it
You could get your receipt
A little closer
You can sense we got heat it's only me
Plus four other ill gangstas we all anxious
To blow up your block and spank shit
Get money get money
Get money ghost get money
Get money get money
Get money ghost get money
Yo I'm down for the get down H
It the town sick the bloodhounds on 'em
I rip clowns I flip pounds I spit rounds
I'm on the prowl my stomach growl
Crushed by the crowd
Rush through loud records drop mushroom clouds
I'm not A rapper I'm spellbound I melt down
Your G-force with heat walks
Free falling to A better money bet he's hungry
Spread the honey big head inside the humvee
Mix lead inside my lungies
Spend bread on my dungarees
And such and such ghost plugged me with this slut
Don't hug me bug me I'm ugly when I f**k
I'm hard like A jungle hunter bust off in heather
Double cross me lift your boss off your feet
'Course he's feather
Whatever whatever he cried indepence
Tennis players get fried
Playing both sides of the ends
Keep your eyes on your friends
Cuz they spy for the feds
Watch me rise from the dead
I got ties with the dreads
Get money get money
Get money ghost get money
Get money get money
Get money ghost get money ahh
专辑信息