Get Money lyrics

[Intro]
Isn't it ironic, all you wanna do is smoke chronic

[Hook]
You better get up, get out and get money
Get money, get money
Get money, get money
Get money, get money
Could spend your whole life tryna get high
Get high, get high
Get high, get high
Get high, get high
If it ain't nothin' else you get from me
Get from me, get from me
Get from me, get from me
Get from me, get from me
Could spend your whole life tryna get by
Get by, get by
Get by, get by
Get by, get by

[Verse 1]
This for them n*ggas who be lookin' for a handout
Yeah he used to be a standout
Now he ain't got a pot to p*ss in
Prolly cause his plans didn't pan out
The type of n*gga, if he see your weed layin' on the table
He'll prolly take a gram out
And they always talmbout
How they own the hood, n*gga this is Uncle Sam's house
Man, all they do is shoot dice
He already got two strikes
Flex a n*gga for like two pints
Mixed it with the Mountain Dew, he don't do Sprite
"Listen young n*gga, man you're too bright
Are you ever gon do right?
Before I do 20 years
I'll work a 9 to 5, sit back and have a cool life
Ah I get it, y'all don't think it's cool to have a job
f*ck what these rap n*ggas talmbout
Ain't nothin' cool bout the mob
My n*gga Trey robbed a Mexican
Now the cartel shootin' at his car
All for a necklace
And a couple pair of shoes at the mall
Smokin' all your weed up
f*ckin' up your re-up
Mad cause the girl that I'm with
Got a 43 butt and a B cup
Boy you're still stayin' at your mama's house
You won't even help your mama out
Now you're at your baby mama crib
And she even got you sleepin' on the couch
[Hook]

[Verse 2]
Okay
n*ggas in the pen f*ck with me
Cause I'm tryna keep they sons out of prison
Grew up with some real hitmen
That'd put James Bond out of business
Pullin' wisdom out my gums like a dentist
Same joint on a mission, kept a gun in detention
I was wrong for my decisions
That I made when I was young cause my dumb intuitions now
It's become an epidemic
Way beyond white supremacist and they come with no witness now
It's your own homeboy
Snitchin' in his deposition so the judge cut his sentence down
You've been gone for a minute now
sh*t, where's all the women now?
It's funny how y'all didn't work out
Suddenly she all into b*tches now
Shawty it was all good
When he was buyin' all the red bottoms
But truth be told
You the reason why the Feds got him
To take care of your little spoiled ass
Before the shots you was sorta bad
You couldn't even afford a bag
Before the cash he was lower class
You ask him for a stack, he give you more than that
Makin' plays, runnin' routes for the quarterback
All in Virginia with the Georgia tags
Somethin' like Russell Simmons and Kimora had
Thought it was real but it was monetary
Won't even put no money on his commissary
If your homegirl a ho, you an honorary
Waitin' on allowance from a n*gga, broke b*tch
[Hook]