Money - Lyrics - Tech N9ne

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 *** Gettin riches n dissin *** like Ty Cob/ This is Everready The Religion............ (Money money money, must be funny. In a rich man's world) Money Money, Money Money