I started small time, rap game, thats pain
Icy Rock school of rap, I'm never whack mane
Had no jewlery, I was broke, but I was ryhmin hard
Now you see me n I swerve, with body guards
Quick, hastey, player haters they face be
Whop bab a loob bop, popped, we off safety
Biancs know we do got knots, we lock pasteries
Shocked on a new hot knock, Rick Rock made me
Squat in a new drop top, they got shakey
Paterners n crews got hot, you shop Maceys
Cops know that you got spots n got babies
Shots poppin threw ma's loft is not tastey
Plots on the new box hops, you cop race me
Top scholar who got props, I got gacey
Stop talkin you not hot, do not wake me
If you got Ooh whops that does not make me
Money!
(Money money money, must be funny. In a rich man's world)
Money Money, Money Money
Pocket, so much power you can't stop this
Watch lit, thats why I stop jumpin in mosh pits
Jock this, tell'a who sell'a lotta this ock with
Hotness, toxic, homie how can you not get - profits, so much fettie, baby the cops get - obnoxious, seein my merchandis comin in boxes
The hawk this, status cuz me n Travis are bosses
Frost bit, the wrist glits lots, it costed
Watch when I drop this, everbody gonn' cop this
Over seas greeds of mini vanilli n chocolates
Gimmie pennies or twenties, skinny minies n (?ocksis?)
Them women can get it admit you hit for nos trick
If you got spit, know that you can get relish but if you sell it just be ready when the spot hit
All the beef we got we aint squashed it
Cuz they know we perminently currency n we got this
Money!
(Money money money, must be funny. In a rich man's world)
Money Money, Money Money
(I'mma dedicate this last verse to the late, great, Mac Dre man. We gonn' keep that Thizzle dance crackin for you baby, n side show every chance we get! Rest In Peace. Regime Life til I die!)
Furried in Missiouri, out side it no body knew me
Havin no broccoli wasnt grovie
So I had to move to L to A you got the sail away so you can get the mail today cuz everybody fails to pay
When you nadda, rapper who got a lotta
Money or women in who steady in them Gotchis or Pradas
You just a low life maggot gettin money from momma
N when you broke all you gettin is drama
The worlds paranas if you a big fish, because they nibble n nibble til you die! Buggin you til you buy! Thats why we be stressin, poppin, puffin, til we high! Hystarical cuz miricals need wings to fly! My god, you can put this off in your iPod
After you cop it cuz droppin rockets is my job/ Look at my wallet, you got it I keep a nice wad
Gettin riches n dissin bitches like Ty Cob/
This is Everready The Religion............
(Money money money, must be funny. In a rich man's world)
Money Money, Money Money
Money Lyrics performed by Tech N9ne are property and copyright of the authors, artists and labels. You should note that Money Lyrics performed by Tech N9ne is only provided for educational purposes only and if you like the song you should buy the CD