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Verse 1 *(San Quinn)*
I`m sky ballin, a young California pimp loungin in a stretch Bently sittin low on the tens ice down, draped an dipped hittin bomb weed (bomb weed) pushin on stega shrimp, sippin Dom P (Dom P) lavishly cordinated savagly corperated on casino, Mr. Gambino`s Mobb affiliated the world is mine that`s what I read on the blimp playin cops I`m a robber wit blue prints to the mint didn`t leave no evidence, back to my residence snatch the Benjamin`s an all the other dead presidents my hoochies like to toss me the coochie floss me in Gucci but groupies would never cost me no Loochie what I look like? givin a hoe all my doe, like she wrote all my flows bitch I`m all-pro you be the same hoe on the stroll makin me mo dinero so tip-toe through the rain, sleet an snow. *(Chorus)* x2 I gotta get my Money Ova Bitches they want the money, I want my riches. Verse 2 *(Messy Marv)* Quinnton mania, hoes I`m tamin ya never praisin ya, never payin ya nuthin mo than attention havin paper is an addiction your not bringin additions then subtract yo self from my juristictions this how I`m seein it my crew would be the cleanest pushin Benzes an Beamers these hoes ain`t pleased to meet us pass us Master Cards an Visa`s illegal searches we smokin roaches wit no crutches bitches we cope from bein broke an do it like a hustla an ain`t no friends we all cousins baby networkin money ain`t nuthin you got it all you need to quit perpin` a quarter million wouldn`t satisfy me I be a master like P an I act like Luni only God can do me burn a crutch wit doobie, approach smoothly only ladies wit paper amuse me, an broke hoes choose me but lose bein in a pursuit of tryin to talk for the conversation of fuck you an shit bitch it`s goin to cost. *(chorus)* x2 Verse 3 *(San Quinn)* I got 2 for 1, from ye-yo to indo paper now, hoes later, the tradition in Fil-mo dime-els, bricks of ye-yo, coke dealers crack sales niggaz that tell on big wheelers young killaz, bitches that jock, look at `em stare got `em choosin, got hoes droolin on a playa my gold teeth glare, shinnin like cheese goin "Gling" knock out playa, K.O.P. in the street I fuck wit big timers, ridin sideways wit young thugs don`t manipulise, of Fil-mo hood nudge shake hood slugs, make hood drugs never could, never would a nigga hoe trust Money Ova Bitches trust a bitch I never would I`m too major havin paper like Tiger Woods famous in the Mobb rob from the rich slang ye-yo to the poor flippin, manipulatin a dumb hoe fo way mo I tell `em BIA-TCH!! I love ballin, how could I be tired of bein rich? been off the hook so long, got disconnected unexpected an you niggaz is wrong fo payin hoes an hoes protected. *(chorus until end)*
Прямая ссылка на текст песни Money Ova Bi*@?es: http://musworld.ru/music/eng/112/1/14485.html » Messy Marv and San Quinn - Money Over Bitches » Messy Marv and San Quinn - Money Ova Bi*@?es » Zeromancer - Lamp Halo » Zeki Muren - Bu Ne Sevgi » Zz Top - Doubleback » Ziggy Marley - Have You Ever Been to Hell » Zakk Wylde - The Things You Do » Zao - Witchunter » Zao - The Race Of Standing Still » Zetta Bytes - When The Rain Falls » Ziggy Marley - Small People » Zao - The Race Of Standing Still » Zebrahead - Walk Away » Zz Top - Piece » Zevon Warren - They Moved The Moon » Zeni Geva - Shi No Umi » Zeca Padre - Porque Ele Vive » Zz Top - Heard It On The X » Zz Top - (Let Me Be Your) Teddy Bear » Zz Top - Sure Got Cold After the Rain Fell » Z-Ro f Mr. 3-2 - Hustling All I Can Do » Z-Ro f Trey D - In My Prime |
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