TQ

TQ - Gotta Make That Money lyrics

Yeah, uh, mm, give it to me

Mmmmm, yeah

Yeah yeah

Mm, no no no no

Seems like every night, right before I go to sleep

I say a little prayer to the Lord that he keep me

I used to be the kind of nigga that didn`t give a fuck about nobody

The slightest little thing would make me mad

Especially if it involved my money

And I can`t tell you `bout the next man

But I love pullin` up in big sedans

Wit all my niggas in a caravan

Holla if ya hear me

Now I`d love to break ya, bring ya down

And take you back again

But that would take too much time

And I gotta hit the streets again

1 - And even if the sun don`t shine, I`ll still be hustlin`

Gotta get that money, make that money

Keep it comin`, if it takes all night, can`t be strugglin`

Somebody come help me

Can ya tell me why is slangin` always on my mind?

Must be buggin`

I guess they figured I would quit and they could get me

If they tapped my line

Don`t mean nothin`

I`ll still be hustlin`

Now I hate to be the one to tell ya, but I don`t mind

Niggas can hate if they want to

And I`m still gon` get mine

Yes, I still be ridin` in a SC on dubs

And I won`t be seen at none of the clubs

And uh, all your women would know who I was

(And that you wouldn`t like) And that you wouldn`t like

If everybody kept they mind on gettin` they skrilla

Won`t be no time to fuck with mine, so won`t be no killin`

I`ll just sit back and recline, smoke this Philly

And keep my fingers laced with diamonds like Big Willie

But for now, catch me on Compton Avenue

With a handful of hundreds and a strap or two

Puttin` it down for my niggas like they told me to

You need some candy, so won`t you come thru

Repeat 1

[E-40]

Sometimes I`m suited up

Sometimes I`m bummy, lookin` like a crook

Hair all nappy and wild - we call it the full nuk

Mashin`, mobbin` and thrashin`

Woopers, horns and tweeters blastin`

Throbbin`, hoggin` and doggin`

Godzilla ballin`

When it`s money callin`? War-rank

Just ride your runners fool

Be `bout your bank

Sittin` fat like ?

All about my money, duffle bags full of scratch

Artillery fire arms and gats

Reep my mill, cap my feddy, get my bread

? on my tail, but I`m tryin` for them, but they want me dead

Cuz I made it out the game without a clue or trace

Used to sell that bass

Rock cavvy candy, ??????

Never had to stop, enemies on the block, they knew it (they knew it)

As far as I was concerned, ? man I do it

Check it out

Money schemin`

Prince Albert, Chocolate Philly, Glocks Garcia Vegas

Black and Miles on the pack again (yes)

What you know about that?

TQ and E-40 Fonzarelli a.k.a. Charlie Hustle, easy

Bitch!!!

Get this song at:  amazon.com sheetmusicplus.com

Share your thoughts

Comments