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Lil Wayne

Money, Cars, Clothes

 

Money, Cars, Clothes

(album: The Drought Is Over Part 4 - 2007)


Money, cars, clothes, hoes
Money, cars, clothes, hoes
I'm from the ghetto so gimme my money

Damn I hate a old fake-ass nigga
That's why you only see me with some ape-ass niggas
We gotta eat early like breakfast nigga
New Orleans landlord where your gate pass nigga
Like 1, 2, 3, 4, 5-0-4 yeah
Pussy-ass niggas don't survive no more
And the niggas say they're riders
Ain't riders no more
From the deep part of the water where the divers won't go
Hey sharks, sup piranhas
Them boys catfish, them boys flounders
I pop on roll, I roll around you
Hit you with that 2-2 7 times like Casandra
Fucking with my

Money, cars, clothes, hoes
Money, cars, clothes, hoes
I'm from the ghetto so gimme my money
Money, cars, clothes, hoes
Money, cars, clothes, hoes
I'm from the ghetto so gimme my money

Fuck, what the fuck I look like
Fuck my verse, nigga
Swizz got the hook right
Angel in the kitchen with the beat and it's cooked right
Weezy be the crack in the jar and he shook right
And I'm the nigga standing over the stove
With a good price with a bitch that ride dick dry bricks and books flights
Drive bricks and book flights
Good by bad days, hello good nights
No my coke look like Carmelo?
Sitting in lebrons, driver seat reclined
2 woman, my Mary J disc and my 9
It's my life, my life, my motherfucking life
And fuck one time it's

Money, cars, clothes, hoes
Money, cars, clothes, hoes
I'm from the ghetto so gimme my money
Money, cars, clothes, hoes
Money, cars, clothes, hoes
I'm from the ghetto so gimme my money

I murder that boy, I kill that bitch
Straight burn your body up like a skillet bitch
I turn beef to me me you, be my fillet bitch
And your stomach ain't gotta hurt for you to feel that shit
So ain't no love for no other so say I fuck them tricks
Ain't no love's flying now besides birds of them bricks
Unless you're talking 'bout eagle that's the street I know
A person on Pro Tools couldn't see my flow
I clap a nigga 3 times, like the 3 syllables
Word that I know, called Hollygrove
Nigga fuck your money, clothes, cars, hoes
Kids, friends, and foes, and you and then I get back to the

Money, cars, clothes, hoes
Money, cars, clothes, hoes
I'm from the ghetto so gimme my money
Money, cars, clothes, hoes
Money, cars, clothes, hoes
I'm from the ghetto so gimme my money

Fatto

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