Bout My Money

(Trick Daddy)

Let's see, what to do today?

F**k that I'm goin to get my money

This one in a. Thuggin memory

That thug nigga

Hollywood nigga

I did this one in that nigga name

Hollywood nigga, yall remember that mutha f**kin name

This bout that mutha f**kin money

NIGGA!

To kill for cocaine and get a nigga killed

And a banana peel will get his whole hide flipped

He's bringin danger to the life of his home boy's

You can see the moon, but don't let him go alone boy

Bout my money, we goin to bump heads and it wont be long

That's why I got two choppers, one for the car, and one for the home

Got extra grip for when they hold on

Nextel, instead of these dial tones

And quarter game for these old tapped ass cell phones

And new back bone for my new dread homes

You aint been outta jail long, but nigga you dead wrong

Bout my money, nigga you shouldn't a played wit it

You're goin to remember the day when this A.K hit ya.

Chorus:

Bout my money

That shit there aint nothin funny

Don't start duckin and runnin when it go to gunnin bout my money

And sonny, don't be stuntin and lookin funny

When I ask about my mutha f**kin money

That shit there aint nothin funny

Don't start duckin and runnin when it go to gunnin bout my money

And sonny, don't be stuntin and lookin funny

Have my mutha f**kin money

(Trick Daddy)

I read in the Book of Thugs, Chapter A.K Verse 47

And it tells me all thugs niggas go to heaven

But between the lines of verses 48 and 9

Is what ya thug nigga's, drug dealin and doin time

But verse 100, talks bout my money

Say's its full of blood so all memphis is funny

But nigga I don't want to hold your gold

I just want to free your soul

And be found somewhere in public when all this shit unfolds

I done gave ya two bricks, and you aint gave me back shit

You runnin around in your new bubble lights

When verse sit lookin sick

I aint here to hold ur sing, I just want my cream

And you can keep your little watch and ring that go bling bling

Chorus

(Trick Daddy)

Now all this huffin and puffin

Aint goin to get you young f**k nigga's nothin

But a shit bag and bullet holes through your bloody clothes

Out of all the nigga's you mutha f**kin know

I should have been the last nigga you want to muthaf**kin know

I'll meet ya at your front door, and im bringin my calico

Nigga if u aint got my flow ur ass gotta go

We'll get you mammy and all and layin em down on the front room floor

Bout to do em all 'cause I done have problems bout all this shit unfolden

Bout my money, I came at it, and your son ain't have it

Now this nigga I owe is goin to be the next nigga to go

I only got 20 G's, and I owe 'em 84

It ain't my muthaf**kin fault, I'm short bout 64

This nigga aint goin to f**k me no more

(Trick talking)

Chorus