Blood Money 3.5 lyrics

by

Fat Trel


[Verse 1: Wale]
New York get the blood money
Real n*ggas smoking loud ass weed
Still counting my math, La Marina
Summertime I be in the spot
On the hood sh*t, smell me n*ggas, it’s all
DC got love for me
Young n*ggas sippin’ all that lean (try slowin’ them down)
Real live at the town, they be go-go’d out
I play the let out, smell me, n*gga, still flat out, uh
Chilly weather, Balmain with many zipper
I’m ballin’, see my closet a dollar of Penny's in them
And ain’t talkin’ about no problems
Cause problems get finished quick with ‘em
n*ggas ch-ch-chopper brat-tat-tat any n*gga
Know that the city vicious
Drug dealing right here appealing
Like they some villains or something they at the hero in again, uh
Now here I come and who carries Maryland with ‘em?
The crabs in the bucket?
f*ck it I’ve been aquarium clearin’, uh
Coming through with some young Surulere goons
Rest in peace to Boo
Used to rock them Melo number two's
That was ’02, maybe ’03, oh, please
Stop it, you’re Origami, I’m finna fold crews
Uh, overseas to the back block
Uh, straight G’s where I’m at Bob
Uh, and we done seen it growing up
When the fiends get they look
They always jukin’ like it’s black rock
Spin it, you know let’s get it
Take this money, I’ma take your b*tches
And no I’m not a gangsta, but I stay authentic
That’s why I go up to any place and remain unblemished
8 for the tennis, I’m great with the lyrics
The n*ggas upstate saying "'Le n*ggas tellin'" like “'Le n*ggas tell it"
Say the n*ggas tell ‘em
I swear a n*gga heard I ain’t e’er been a weller
Redbone redbone, well put together
Put it in my cell, I can put it in your belly
Kentland. what’s up? Landover. what’s up?
Roll pass Ardmore, feeling local as f*ck
Audemar keep it on, n*ggas won’t even touch
When you home and you humble you get a lot of respect
And n*ggas trappin’ trying to get at all the bread
Get up out of the jungle, get his daughter a bed
Get his son some gear, find a pot he can p*ss in
So quarters moving back and forth like it's a lottery ticket
And to be honest who gon' want McDonalds position?
No time for chicken nuggets but somehow they find all the dippers
They slipping
[Segue: Elaine]
Hey. I just spent a lot of time and I have eaten a lot of crap to get where I am today. And I am not throwing it all away now

Blood money (yeah yeah)

[Verse 2: A$AP Ferg]
Ah (blood blood)
Daddy, daddy was a legend
Harlem born, money gettin'
'til he pull an armageddon
Trigger brrrr cerebellum
Mellow at the 7/11
Mama had to call the reverend
Daddy teach your hood a lesson from the seven Mac-11
8:30, eight Mac 10's, crack been
Putting genocide on my Black friends
Richard Porter seen the slaughter
Alpo kinda sorta was a ho
Cause he left the whole hood in heated water, damn
sh*t n*ggas still glorify
He had all the rides
He had all the b*tches f*cking all the thots
He the man, rocking Dapper Dan
With a gun in hand, Pakistan
I don’t understand how you kill your man (damn)
I don’t understand how you kill your man
Goddamn, how you kill your man over money when
Two Harlem kids in a gang do the devil’s dance
Cause the greed of money had them caught up all up in a trance
[Verse 3: Wale]
f*ck n*ggas taking nothing from me
Sun going down in a town, ain’t nothing funny
Little buddy on a corner with a quarter
On 'em, father with the law and the the mom trippin' off the water
Talking to herself in public
I’m looking out South Florida Avenue
Haven’t you heard of the dealers and loiterers
The trappers and murderers
I could see Sursum Corda from the Mandarin Orien
Tal, you see the glory in this?
I don't see it n*gga
They keep it G, you can't see it, n*gga
They see you on tees and see you on the scene slipping
You being hot, you see I’m Pac
Don’t be in public
We ain’t seen peace around these parts
Since Teen Summit, blood money
A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z #
Copyright © 2012 - 2021 BeeLyrics.Net