Trick Daddy - Bout My Money

Trick Daddy
Let's see, what to do today?
fk that I'm goin to get my money

This one in a.. Thuggin memory
That thug nigg*
Hollywood nigg*
I did this one in that nigg* name
Hollywood nigg*, yall remember that muth* fkin name

This bout that muth* fkin money
nigg*!!!!!!

To kill for cocaine and get a nigg* 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 as* cell phones
And new back bone for my new dread homes
You aint been outta jail long, but nigg* you dead wrong
Bout my money, nigg* 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 s**t 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 muth* fkin money
That s**t 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 muth* fkin money

Trick Daddy
I read in the Book of Thugs, Chapter A.K Verse 47
And it tells me all thugs go to heaven
But between the lines of verses 48 and 9
Is what ya thug nigg*'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 nigg* I don't want to hold your gold
I just want to free your soul
And be found somewhere in public when all this s**t unfolds
I done gave ya two bricks, and you aint gave me back s**t
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 fk nigg*'s nothin
But a s**t bag and bullet holes through your blood clothes
Out of all the nigg*'s you muth* fkin know
I should have been the last nigg* you want to muth*fkin know
I'll meet ya at your front door, and im bringin my calico
nigg* if u aint got my flow ur as* gotta go
We'll get you mammy and all and layin em down on the front room floor
Bout to do em all cuz I done have problems bout all this s**t unfolden
Bout my money, I came at it, and your son ain't have it
Now this nigg* I owe is goin to be the next nigg* to go
I only got 20 G's, and I owe 'em 84
It ain't my muth*fkin fault, I'm short bout 64
This nigg* aint goin to fk me no more

(Trick talking)

Chorus

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