f*ck b*tches Get Money lyrics

[Hook]
f*ck b*tches, get money, get money and f*ck b*tches
You know that I’m a G, I’m a G
Get money, get money and f*ck b*tches
You know it’s MOB

[Verse 1: Meek Mill]
Meek Milly is back
And I just kill a whole beat like I’m a heart attack
In my hood I’m an artifact
But the coppers want to arrest him like a cardiac
So I'mma Dodge 'em like a Charger, Magnum, or Viper
Your b*tch need service, I’m the plumber that will pipe her
I spit game to em like I’m in the cypher
That’s why I knock em down like the bowling alley, strikers
And I be sh*tting on n*ggas like a diaper
The way I kill sh*t, sh*t I should be a lifer
They say my bars be on point like a sniper
Just call me Malvo, I’m strapped liked Velcro
My gat got hollows all up in the head rest
Oh that’s your girl? Give her here, I could care less
Know how I’m riding, if I got her Imma share that
Got blood diamonds in my chain, just call me redneck

[Hook]
f*ck b*tches, get money, get money and f*ck b*tches
You know that I’m a G, I’m a G
Get money, get money and f*ck b*tches
You know it’s MOB
[Verse 2: ?]
Watch how I drop on this one, top dog that’s my position
100 shots that’s spitting, trust me I am not gon miss em
Ain’t had no pot to p*ss in, so I just broke down pigeons
Put my youngins on missions, gave em jobs and had em shifting
We had them sort of sniffing, chop a bag and deliver
If you want it you get it, I don’t just talk it I live it
You do rap for a living, I do rap for a hobby
Put my name in your rap and watch how I catch a new body
If the labels don’t sign me, I ain’t crying, on ryan
I just hit my connect and get some more brick on consignment
He know I run right through it, you know that’s how I do it
You see them FA troopers, get to moving cause they shooting
I got homies like Diddy, and my n*gga Meek Milly
If they come along with me, trust me it’s not gon be pretty
Know I rep for my city, that’s the city of Philly
Get money, f*ck b*tches, you try me I’ll show you this milly

[Hook]
f*ck b*tches, get money, get money and f*ck b*tches
You know that I’m a G, I’m a G
Get money, get money and f*ck b*tches
You know it’s MOB

[Verse 3: ?]
I got my seat laid back, I’m chilling
Strapped with a mac in the back of the will
Use two hands when I’m clapping it still
Got a pack full of crack and a pack full of pills
Because we hustle for the muscle
Could get clapped in the back for the scrill
[?] came back and he back for the thrill
Yeah [?] came back and he back for the thrill
I’m in my brown paper bag, and I think I’m taking over
See my fridge and freezer empty, but this ice and baking soda
So we take it to the plot, chop it up and make them boulders
Shouts out to the fiends that paid us
Shouts out to the fiends that owe us
CH, we sliding through, on some sh*t that’s Windex blue
And the windows tinted too, so the haters can’t see through
I be in the projects too, posted up right in the circle
If you think of coming through then them boys will probably hurt you
Time is my money dog, so every minute man
That money money calling, f*cking up my minute plan
I’m on my sh*t again, you know what time it is
You want the streets, turn out no P, you want no drama kid
[Hook]
f*ck b*tches, get money, get money and f*ck b*tches
You know that I’m a G, I’m a G
Get money, get money and f*ck b*tches
You know it’s MOB