CyHi The Prynce

Get Yo Money
It's one in the same as [?] said "You're a great hustler" ya dig? And you gotta keep it playa all the time, man You ain't even gotta keep it g You got too many gangsters on your team with you Get your money and get out the game Get your money and get out the game Get your money and get out the game Get your money... I'm from the home of the Georgia peach We had to call Meech if we wanted to order keys Our blow was from Miami, enjoy the Florida breeze Got a Zo' pound and broke it down to all quarter P's Don't run off with the pack, my nigga, we used to torture thieves Immigrant killers, huh, I think they Portuguese And ya'll lookin' like some sittin' ducks just a porch of geese At 17, I was on the run with a fugitive All he gave me was game and I kept it like it a souvenir I swear I seen them things come, whiter than some new veneers I was supposed to be in school, I think it's like my junior year Cadillac Coupe DeVille, he said, "Remember three rules First, you 'gon need a tool and if you pull it, shoot to kill Never shit where you lay, don't bring that work to the crib Clique full of killers, that means you got a weak crew You need some corporate gangsters, just can't have a bunch of street dudes." Letras de cancionesNever gang-bang, but I can call 'em if I need to My homies was crippin' so hard, all they eat is seafood Had a manager named [?], he used to teach me Kung-Fu It was ironic 'cause I had to call him Sifu Born dope, you should put the lighter on the teaspoon All I know is drug-lords, kingpins, street cats Funny I'm all of them niggas rehab Fuck around and relapse when I hear this beat slap Just on [?] Road alone, I was servin' like three traps I was deep in the game, I'm talkin' to my knee caps If a cutie was a mile, I just served that nigga three laps I be nervous when I rap 'cause I be thinking the beat tap-pin' You and your dogs is all bark, I'm talkin' tree sap Dig this, man sharpen man like steel sharpens steel, understand me? Check this out cuz, every nigga think he the slickest thing moving until he gets washed in the game Get your money and get out the game (get money) Get your money and get out the game Get your money and get out the game Get your money... Godfathers, top shotters, block robbers Outsiders, box riders, God got us Dodge Chargers, mob daughters, trap houses Fly swatters, dough stoppers got choppers Know mobsters who love murder, like soccer Like Tonka, put in work, night walker Might off ya', good shooter, knife propper Dice dropper, street ties, white collar I done seen it all, I was taught by the mob When you stop behind the car, give yourself another car length Can't let 'em box you in, that's how they did Pac them Only trust your friends as far as you can toss them And you ain't a boss if you ain't ever took a loss, pimp When you in the club leave your pistol on the car rim My OG's done retired that's why the police never caught them So get your money and get out, that's the lost gem See, this shit ain't got no love for nobody You niggas think you poppin' right now? You better have a back-up plan Put these fools up on this CyHi There's only 3 ways out this shit; Dead, jail or get your legal hustle on I'm talkin' car-washes, barbershops, real-estate, app-stores, gyms, juice, clubs, ranch shops, studios, understand me? [Chorus] Get your money and get out the game Get your money and get out the game Get your money and get out the game Get your money... From Letras Mania