Mo Money - Young Bleed

9−7, 9−8, let’s get this bitch to set the record straight, y’know what I’m

sayin'

Concentration Camp in the house

We ain’t playin wit' 'em

Nigga what

If it don’t make dollar then it don’t make cent

To a ghetto pimp, nigga hop 'cross the fence

Early in the mornin', my business with your mug on mean

Sideways, throwin' it up, how them puppies lean

Now sometimes we rhyme fast, sometime we rhyme slow

But wherever we go, we stay strapped down fo' sho

You ain’t know?

It’s a cold world gotta keep it jumpin' like jets

And it’s like that nigga

Look I’m a lay-low ass nigga, ain’t no class figure

Talk shit about my clan and I’m gonna break yo ass nigga

I’m 'bout cash nigga that’s all I’m tryin' to see

I can give a fuck less who you tryin' to be

I got my mind on some shit I’m gonna jack a vibe for me

I’m with a sick group of vics that’s down to ride for me, bitch

You see shit done hit the fan and this camp ain’t comin' like we is

'cause we the sickest clan

Now all my niggas put your nuts in your hands if it ain’t no hope

Slide your foot and tell 'em hoes get the dick out they throat

I’m copin' day-by-day but I really can’t wait 'til I get my hands on some loot

Rollin' state to state to get face-to-face

With the boss and be like fuck you

Duck who?

I’d love to, but I’m not quite that bitch fight

So gank the hoe, lemme get this Gs

And be on the way to get my shit right

'Cause midnight gon' call for some weed to smoke

When these hoes shake they titties hollerin' «Go lay low!»

'Cause I gots to get mo' money, mo' money

Can’t get my issue with no money, no money

Nigga gots to get mo' money, mo' money

Can’t get my issue with no money, no money

I gots to get mo' money, mo' money

Can’t get my issue with no money, no money

Nigga gots to get mo' money, mo' money

Can’t get my issue with no money, no money

Sometimes I have fatal visions of being paid when I be broke

So you know, like I know, that you know

This shit I stress is hard to cope

I’m dope, I still focus on my paper

Plottin' schemes so when I get my paper

I can make my paper greater

A faker, you got the game fucked up

Penitentiary bound, you wanna clown, I’ll make your heart pound

Down and dirty with this thirty-thirty

Caught me slippin' with a pound of weed and a verdict

Now when you get your cheese, watch out for broke-ass hoes

Don’t give 'em nothin' free but dick and then show 'em the door

Keep your ol' lady 'cause you done wanna cut it up and have fun

And pull a high school freak, 'cause they young and dumb

A Foot Locker broad to keep you laced with kicks and 'fits

'Bout three college hoes, 'cause they crazy about dick

Get you a married hoe, just so you could test your game

Get the credit card and spend up all the husband’s change

I can’t let another nigga’s problems worry me

Not unless we negotiatin' for some currency, ya dig

Fuck the pigs 'cause they bust they wigs, for nothin'

Think a nigga movin' somethin', but really they just be stuntin'

Frontin', like they be pushin' weight and at the same time

They don’t even know that they playin' themself while lookin' fake

A crooked snake could easily slip in between

A nigga and his dream for bein' reign supreme

With the green, know what I mean?

Tryin' to get mo' money, mo' money

Can’t get my issue with no money, no money

Nigga!

I’m tryin' to get mo' money, mo' money

Can’t get my issue with no money, no money

Nigga!

I’m tryin' to get mo' money, mo' money

Can’t get my issue with no money, no money

I’m tryin' to get mo' money, mo' money

Can’t get my issue with no money, no money

Nigga!

(Tryin' to get mo' money, mo' money)

Concentration Camp in this bitch, ya heard me?

Lay Low

Lucky Knuckles

Young Bleed

Big Happy

And this how we doin' this thing, ya heard me?

Straight out the South

Happy in this bitch, for the 9−7

Honor proves anything

Tryin' to get mo' money

Sixty-seven three

And your mob and me, I have no issue with any of you