BIGGIE SMALLSGettin' Money Lyrics
Fuck bitches, get money. fuck niggaz, get money Hehehe
WHAT? Uhh, sex em up
The fuck? That shit ain't even?? big boy
Oh aight, you don't, you don't get none of that shit
Uhh, check it out
Bout to "get money"
You wanna sip Mo' on my living room flo'
Play Nintendo with Cease-a-Leo
Pick up my phone say, "Poppa not home"
Sex all night, mad head in the morn'
Spin my V, smoke all my weed
Tattoo on tit-tie sayin B-I-G, now check it
You wanna be my main squeeze baby
Don'tcha, you wanna gimme what I need baby
Won'tcha, picture life as my wife just think
Full length mink, fat X and O links
Bracelets to match, conversation was all that
Showed you the safe combinations and all that
Guess you could say youse the one I trusted
Who would ever think that you would spread like mustard?
Shit got hot, you sent Feds to my spot
Took me to court, tried to take all I got
'Nother intricate plot, the bitch said I raped her
"Damn, why she wanna stick me for my paper?"
My Mo-sci-no hoe, my Ver-sa-ce hottie
Come to find out, you was fuckin everybody
You knew about me, the fake ID
Cases in Virginia, body in D.C.
Woe, oh is me, that's what I get for trickin
Pay my own bail, commence to ass kickin
Lick in the door, wavin the four-four
All you heard was, "Poppa don't hit me no more"
Disrespect my click, my shit's imperial
Fuck around and made her milkbox material
You feel me? Suckin dick, runnin your lips
'Cause of you, I'm on some real fuck a bitch shit, uhh.
Fuck bitches, get money. fuck niggaz, get money WHAT? I see mad girls like you
You seen mad girls just ACTIN hot
I'm tellin you though
There AIN'T nobody like me
You just frontin, there's people out like that
Uhh, whoo! Get at me
Whoo, I told you niggaz
Niggaz. betta grab a seat
Grab on your dick as this bitch gets deep
Deeper than the pussy of a bitch six feet
Stiff dicks feel sweet in this little petite
Young bitch from the street, guaranteed to stay down
Used to bring work outta town on Greyhound
Now I'm Billboard now, niggaz press to hit it
Play me like a chicken, thinkin I'm pressed to get it
Rather do the killin than the stick up jooks
Rather count a million while you eat my pussy
Push me to the limit get my feelings in it
Get me open while I'm cummin down your throat
Then, you wanna be my main squeeze nigga
Don'tcha, you wanna lick between my knees nigga
Don'tcha wanna see me whippin your 3 down the Ave.
Blow up spots on bitches because I'm mad
Break up affairs lick shots in the air
You get vexed, and start swingin everywhere
Me shifty? Now you wanna pistol whip me
Pull out your nine, while I cock on mine
Yeah what nigga? I ain't got time for this
So what nigga? I'm not tryin to hear that shit
Now you wanna buy me diamonds and Armani suits
Adrienne Vitadini and Chanel 9 boots
Things that make up, for all the games and the lies
Hallmark cards, sayin, "I apologize"
Is you wit me? How could you ever decieve me
But payback's a bitch motherfucker, believe me
Naw I ain't gay this aint no lesbo flow
Just a lil somethin, to let you motherfuckers know
Fuck bitches, get money. fuck niggaz, get money Wait a minute, wait a minute
Back up, just give me that shit, this shit is mine
Oh you want my numbers and shit
Look, now you wanna??
I'm all that bitch, don't ask
You're fuckin with a bitch named Aphrodite
Y'all believe that shit?
Just playin with you, worrd?? daddy is all that, oh word?? I'm talkin bout some presidents
Talkin bout this motherfuckin cash
Whatever you don't think about this
My nickname was Jesus in high school
You don't even believe that shit!
God don't believe that shit!
I'm the supreme being baby
Songwriter(s): S. Striplin, Dennis Lambert, Roy Ayers, Sylvia Denise Striplin, Francine Vicki Golde, Lamont Porter, Christopher Wallace, B. Bedford, R. Ayers, Kim Jones
Copyright: Ayers Roy Ubiquity Inc., Chrysalis Music, Vmg Worldwide, Franne Golde Music, Universal Music - Careers, Ez Elpee Music
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