Money - Joe Blow

Got on my new Michael Jordans, jeans from Michael Kors

Never heard about it, you probably can’t afford it

Whips all imported, passenger is gorgeous

If you ain’t talking bout money then she ignores it

It ain’t important, her nigga is a mobster

That candy red new 'Rari like a Lobster

IPad, full dash, come with every option

And that Glock 40 still got the stock clip

Me against the world, baby I’m on some Pac shit

Ballin' for Furl, and all my niggas that’s locked in

Got my baby girl everything she could dream of

Swear I fell in love when I got my lean plug…

Told you I’m getting money.

I wake up and do this shit every day man.

Young rich nigga man.

You already know bitch.

Better check a real nigga out

man

I’m a product of where I live, where I grew up is hopeless

Now the crib got a nice view of the ocean

Stack for the belt, spent two on the loafers

Left from SF and only flew into Oakland

Anybody heard «Shooters» been knew I would smoke ya

Broke down a cube then threw in a quarter

Got candy on the cougar, 450 the motor

In this rap I’m the future, name a nigga that’s doper

Got my bitch on Redbook,?

and?

Red-black paint, match the inside of the 'Maro

Got my prostitute with me, and I’m sipping on ounces

Wrist costs $ 250, I can’t even pronounce it…

Man I get tired of counting money man.

Now I’ll just weigh this shit blood.

I’m the flyest nigga you ever seen in your life bitch, so you might wanna

check a real nigga out, know what I’m saying?

40-something thousand feet, way up out the mobile zone

But I’m still on the phone and I’m blowing cones

Paper planes, we making cake

From the Bentley to that new 'Stang, got paper plates

Private stocks, property, market and real estate

Got lawyers, accountants, couple overseas banks

Managers, publishers, street team out of state

From the Bay to ATL to Philly we moving weight

It’s the real against the fake, it’s a war in this world

So I’m getting it out of state, with some boy and some girl

And I’m sending my bitch, first licks on tour

Man I’m getting long money, still want me some more…

Man I’ll never get tired of money man.

I go in every room man and I’m tripping

over the shit.

I’m trying to find a new place to put it everyday man.

Burried in the backyard, stuffed under the house… Man I got too much of this

shit.

But I wouldn’t give you shit bitch, so sit back and check a real nigga

out

Razors and dinner plates, Heckler & Koch

Cocked on the way, so much ice in the watch

I just sit and reminisce about nights on the block

With a bad rich bitch overlooking Dubai

Surprised that I survived and made it to twenty-nine

I just gotta thank God, cause most of my niggas died

Blessed to be alive, seen my daughter get big

Where I grew up, parents outliving their kids

Got a CLS Benz, DVinci Forgiato rims

Dior for my bitch, Giovanni her lens

Cause I knocked her on my own, but she brought me her friends

Now they all getting down, you should see where I live, nigga…