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Make money, make money, money, money Take money, take money, money, money Make money, make money, money, money Take money, take money, money, money I'm King Kong, this my theme song With Sky on the hook, we touch Kareems Soul Your team's on, homie dream on In the movie about pussies you play the lead role Sensitive rapper, oh sensitive rappers We meant to get active, we interact with killers and factors We chillin' with trappers, we in the back with infamous jackers And infinite clappers roast to the back We get the shit crackin' exactly like that The streets give me a hundred dollar credit Keep it one hundred, nothin' sweet like a fuckin' diabetic And Hip Hop ain't dead, but radio programmers should be Fuck it, I just said it, nothing I regretted, unapologetic This whole rap industry's like a survival quest And the idiot sittin' behind the desk is your final test First they'll censor you then tax you like the IRS Jerk me for my money, you better buy a vest You better have a iron chest It's like a couple of pervs with ear fetishes Fuck what you've heard, you're ear-relevant Whether jugglin' birds or hustlin' words SongtexteFor mathematics, we 'bout action, that's numbers and verbs Yeah Make money, make money, money, money Take money, take money, money, money Make money, make money, money, money Take money, take money, money, money I'm a legendary rapper, clap a TEC quick Blastin' at your baby bassinet Snap a neck, snatch a necklace All I see is money, pussy, fame, power Sixty minute flights through them rain showers That's because the plane's ours 'Bout to turn these money stacks to algebra And shotgun your passenger You're about to take a dirt nap like Africa And we the fuckin' money team, read it and weep Ask me why I'm leavin' the D? I'm bob and weavin' the heat Modesty is the least, while respect is just a catch 22 Give it to get it or expect it, just catch 22 They call me King Karma, I've seen crowns layed down in extreme carnage Put mean garmets between me and armor And I ain't even rhymin' man, I'm just being honest man I would have your body lyin' in your home While your soul flyin' to the promise land Bitches actin' like I gotta go home, 'cause I'm in they stomach like sonograms Make money, make money, money, money Take money, take money, money, money Make money, make money, money, money Take money, take money, money, money Man, nobody talk a nigga like I'm in a wheelchair You stay tryna walk a nigga, I'm from New York nigga Pull out, bang 'em with the hawk nigga Bom bom bom, outlined in chalk nigga Stick a fork in a nigga, I'm in the gym jumpin' rope Liftin' weights, spidey mags, speedbags, you can't cope Every word that I've ever said, you hang on to it And even though I said it, it wasn't truth, ya ain't gon' do it 'Cause I, write in my books 'cause my books is what I say And what I say is my life, 'cause the life took away 'Cause the path has been dark for oh so long Spit it from the heart from the start, it can't go wrong Make money, make money, money, money Take money, take money, money, money Make money, make money, money, money Take money, take money, money, money Make money, make money, money, money Take money, take money, money, money Make money, make money, money, money Take money, take money, money, money Aus Songtexte Mania