Lyrics of 'Get Money (Take Money)' by Pouya
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Ayy, ayy
Ayy, ayy, ya dig?
Ayy, ayy
Fuck fame, pick the MAC up, let it mash up
Snubnose in the club, don't make me act up (don't make me act up)
Stupid ass bitch make no sense
I be gettin' money off both ends, pick your bags up (pick them bags)
Make sure you park in reverse
Somethin' like me what a bad bitch prefer
I been sayin', mothafuck 12 since pre-birth
If you owe me, it is nowhere to hide on this green Earth
Get money-money, take money-money, yeah
I be countin' five, ten, twenty hunnid, yeah
My ho thick, big hunny-bunny, yeah
Sippin' juice cups, big muddy buddy, yeah
Get money-money, take money-money, yeah
I be countin' five, ten, twenty hunnid, yeah
My ho thick, big hunny-bunny, yeah (yuh, ayy)
Sippin' juice cups, big muddy buddy, yeah (yuh, ayy, yuh)
Yuh, I don't wanna take no picture with these rappers
I don't wanna touch your bitch if your bitch is below the average
Don't make me pull the Ratchet, make me turn into a savage
Took a minute to get it, now I have it (now)
Used to whip a Saturn, what's the matter with these rappers? See your pattern
Fuckboys and clout hoes, the game can't get no sadder
Leave me to myself and my wealth, hang me from a Gucci belt
Blow the .45 and let my brains splatter
Cellphone calls from my cousin sittin' in a cell
Cops wanted me to snitch, bitch, I told 'em, go to hell
Post office into sendin' packs, mothafuck the mail
Bitch mad I'm on the road so she got a fuckin' cell
Step into the spotlight, walk a mile in my life and act like
You know how to act right around these rubber bands (bitch)
Don't you leave your crib without your gun inside your hand
None of my homies got a CCL, and who you think is postin' bail?
Get money-money, take money-money, yeah
I be countin' five, ten, twenty hunnid, yeah
My ho thick, big hunny-bunny, yeah
Sippin' juice cups, big muddy buddy, yeah
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