Dr. Ama - M.O.N.E.Y. Lyrics






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Dr. Ama Lyrics

M.O.N.E.Y. Lyrics


[Dr. Ama:]
Money, we live for it, die for it, crooks pull jooks
Catch bodies, do bids and fight for it
They scheme and conive for it, for papes
Bitches fuck a nigga, scream rape and lie for it
Paper in the atmosphere, be aware
We there, beware, we don't play fair
God forbid if you were stranger here, son, you a stranger here?
Be out, since danger here
Angers here in abundance, niggas be fronting on some one shit
And the gun clip run your shit
Be leary of the smiling face, catch you for your style and your papes
New York, the wildest apes
Hit the strip, lookouts that watch for jake
Got plans to live great nigga, by any means
Fuck my enemies, your MP, making memories
Big set money, make a nigga envy me, that's my word

[Chorus x2: Dr. Ama]
Make Other Niggas Envy You, get M.O.N.E.Y.
Make Other Niggas Envy You, get M.O.N.E.Y.
Whatever it take, we out to get cake
Til we die, M-O-N-E-Y

[Dr. Ama:]
Introduced to the game, on 112th and St. Nicks
Same shit soldiers go through in every borough
Little nigga plan to be a big nigga, one day
Instead of every word son say, he said
If he gonna be a church boy, then live for Sunday
Sit there, wait for Christ to come back some day
In the hood, we live for the pay, die by gunplay
The street code branded in my soul by the sunray
Wake up, think money, get dressed, think money
Get neck, get sex, know the rest, think money
In the days we blowing the haze, we thinking money
Thug life nigga, ain't a damn thing funny
Simple big way, chop them thangs
Hit the block, clock the green, copping gleem
Front on our spot, we pop them things
Plus hot, lay low, pour 'dro, and smack the great

[Chorus x2]

[Dr. Ama:]
Feel me son? Me in the black MDX
Smoke tint, been smoking pounds of bless
No stress, banging hoes, hold down the residence
It's evident, we about dough, profile low
Street life, roll c-lo under the street light
We the street, cause the beast walk the beat nights
Hop around the clock shop, so we can eat right
Game's tight, but who give a fuck, we on the come up
Niggas broad telling, make her dumb up, slip an E
Tear the buns up, back to biz, get these ones up
Play the game like EA Sports, '04
Like Montazuma, make the stash grow like a tumor
Don't hate, cause we play the hood, thug life, live from the block
You strive the block, calling the cops
We elect dead presidents, make the block our residence
With guns big enough to drop an elephant

[Chorus x2]




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Notice: All lyrics are the sole property of the indicated authors. Many lyrics have been transcribed by ear and may contain inaccuracies.