Money, Weed, Blow lyrics

by

Juicy J


[Intro: Juicy J]
Play me some pimpin, mane

[Chorus: Juicy J]
Money money weed blow pimpin' pimpin' lots of hoes
Money money weed blow pimpin' pimpin' lots of hoes
Money money weed blow pimpin' pimpin' lots of hoes
Money money weed blow pimpin' pimpin' lots of hoes

[Verse 1: French Montana]
When my n*ggas come get you
Ain't nobody run with you
I hit you with the chopper fix yo ass proper
Cali on the roll, hustlin' in the cold
Pockets full of stacks and a trunk full of o's
We the hottest n*ggas out, boxing n*ggas out
f*ck all the paint, light up the thang
Lemme get you in the mood
Get you in the groove
Does it all the time, do it from the ground
f*ck you think, fishing the tank
Everybody watching, hustle nonstop
Cocaine Mafia, 4-5th pop ya
Think you out ya mind, I’ll put ya mind out ya
Got me on my side with pills and lean
Glock 10 shots, and a f*cking beam
Purple lambo, smoking a Rambo
Take my chances, life's a gamble
Low in my ammo, looking for the payback
I know you b*tch n*ggas since way back
Fill up my need, fill up arenas
All mixtapes, we bury n*ggas you think
Johny Hanc*ck filling up the blank
Two headshots blood in yo mink
Montana juice hard as a tank
These other rap n*ggas ain't hard as you think
[Chorus: Juicy J]
Money money weed blow pimpin' pimpin' lots of hoes
Money money weed blow pimpin' pimpin' lots of hoes
Money money weed blow pimpin' pimpin' lots of hoes
Money money weed blow pimpin' pimpin' lots of hoes

[Verse 2: Juicy J]
Who that, who that riding in the street
Riding in a silver phantom
Who that, who that guap on the weed
Other drug dealers can't stand him
Who that, who that be in the club
Throwing down lots of money
Who that, who that be on the grind
Always tryna get this money
This n*gga is too real
Stay high and pop pills
Hell yea I'm c*cky
Cuz I don't grow meals
I done turned out plenty hoes
I done turned out plenty shows
I did what you tryna do
I done f*cked n*ggas momma too
A lot of these n*ggas be hating on me
And the girlfriends be waving on me
They see me still getting these racks and cheese
Ain't no n*gga out here backin me
We own everything that's in the lot
I'm dealing cash I don't f*ck with stocks
So if you in the club with patron and rocks
I'ma take you somewhere homie I might own the spot
[Chorus: Juicy J]
Money money weed blow pimpin' pimpin' lots of hoes
Money money weed blow pimpin' pimpin' lots of hoes
Money money weed blow pimpin' pimpin' lots of hoes
Money money weed blow pimpin' pimpin' lots of hoes

[Verse 3: Project Pat]
I'm with my n*ggas out the north side on Memphis we cutthroat
Hanging in the traps with real killas slanging cut though
Robbery can get done
I just need a reason
They paying me my funds boy
Now that's good reason
Or straight suicide, Now I gotta tax that ass
40 barrel to his head, pay me up or we crack yo cast
Penitentiary the chance
I'm just trying to advance
Caught a n*gga slippin', shot his ass for a whole brick
Gotta thank quick, cuz this here could be my last shot
I'm up in yo spot with the guns pulling masks off
But a lick for the brick
Like a nut with no jack off
Or a junkie glass pipin' out bout to blast off
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