Lil' Kim

Lil' Kim - It's Kim Bitches (Get That Money) lyrics

Y'all know who it is (NEW MONEY!)

It's me bitches!

Back up on the scene is the microphone fiend

Fuck keepin' it clean, I'm keepin' it real green

WARNING! She's hazardous, ghetto fabulous

You can't see her with binoculars (You cannot see her dog)

I'm keepin' it hollyhood out in Hollywood

Put ya lighters up if you rollin' that backwood (put 'em up, put 'em up)

Once again it's on, ya girl's back in the zone

Maybe it's the beat or the seven shots of Patrone

Like Cypress Hill I'm insane in the brain

My niggas, clear the lane I'm comin' to bring the pain (She comin'!)

Time for a change, ya'll all sound the same

Y'all all makin' it rain, we makin' it HURRICANE

Like a good meal, I hit the spot

This is why, this is why, this is why I'm hot

(This is why she hot)

What you cowards forgot? I'm stayin on top

I'm kinda like your album, ain't never gon' drop

Y'all got gun and ain't never gon' pop

You already know the motto, ain't never gon' stop

I'm always on that green light, tryna get my team right

Back to back 550s that's crème white

Red diamonds like a inferred beam light

My soldiers masked up like it's Halloween night

You know the Apple Bottoms get the jeans fittin' tight

Marsheanio bra got the titties sittin' right

You know JT had a sexy track

But it's gon' take Lil' Kim to bring sexy back

It's me the trendsetter, 24-7 Star sweater

24 karat gold on astar leather, best thing since Donetella

We in the club and our table's bottled up like a wine cellar

Let's get this mozzarella, money is time fella

The Queen reign better get under my umbrella

Ella, ella, aye, aye, aye

It's the Mafia La Bella

Ella, ella, all day, aye... YEAAA

Kim still gutta mayne

American idol before Ruben Studdard mayne

My sex appeal make you stu-stu stutter mayne

My CD all in ya crib like brudda mayne

I'm seasoned with all the right spices

I'm the whole pie, ya'll just slices

I'm hotter than Tabasco sause

When God make it rain it's too cool me off

Get that money, get that money

Don't stop huggin' the block

Get that money

Get that money, get that money

Don't stop huggin' the block

Get that money

Cause I'm bout to own the charts

When I pop my collar, man I'm extra heavy on the starch

Extra heavy on the wheels, extra heavy on the watch

Jewelry like Henny extra heavy on the rocks

My dudes on the grind extra heavy on the block

You know I like my men extra heavy with the guap

You lookin' for the dude leavin the club in the Galado

I'm lookin' for the dude leavin' in the helicopter

So we can toast, overlookin' the coast

Just think about that next time you flyin' coach

Yea I came home, lil' meat on the thighs

I'm eye candy, real sweet on the eyes

Yea I fucked with Nas, hypnotized B.I

Damn, they even thought I'd marry J like Blige

But naw, Kim keep two steepin'

Two fo' seven is what I'm reppin'

Lil' Kim for mayor, fuck with a real bitch

Queen Bee nigga get with the real shit

You need a fix? I'm the one to holler at

Ya stocks went down, you can't get a dollar back

Get this song at:  amazon.com sheetmusicplus.com

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