If It Aint About Money (The Darkside Vol. 1. 2010)

Текст песни Fat Joe and Trey Songz - If It Aint About Money (The Darkside Vol. 1. 2010)

[Intro: Trey Songz & Fat Joe]
Ooh, ooh, oh-oh
Oh, oh, oh-oh-oh
La-da-da-da-da (La-da-da-da-da)
La-da-da-da-da-da (La-da-da-da)
Yeah, c'mere!
Uh! (Yeah!)
Uh! (Yeah!)
Uh! (Yeah!)

[Verse 1: Fat Joe]
Uh, wrist on froze, thanks to the stove
Mattress financial, bank's never closed
Monday to Sunday, serve all addicts
Joey Van Gundy, watch me work the Magic
Aah, and I ain't talkin' NBA
I ain't even trust the breath, and Jealous Ones Still Envy me
Problem is, these guys ain't even half what they pretend to be
Cold don, now look at all the shots that they keep sendin me
And your girl the best, she fulfillin' all my fantasies
She drip, drip, drippin' all up in the drop head Phantom seats
Now pop your bottles, blow your kush, fuck what your man say
Cause you know we don't give a fuck, we let the band play

[Pre-Chorus: Trey Songz]
If it ain't about money, why we wastin' time?
(Until I die) Money's all that's on my mind
[Chorus: Trey Songz]
You can believe that, I'll be where the cheese at
Wrist on froze, better get your hoe
Pocket full of paper, so these haters can't stand me
Ballin' like the Lakers, keep heat like Miami
And she killin' in them jeans, "Baby, won't you take 'em off for me?"
She said she a boss, she ain't talkin'
If it ain't about money, why we wastin' time? (Yeah)

[Verse 2: Fat Joe]
Yeah, yo
Neck on froze, thanks to the hoes
Pussy never plummet, pimp 'til I'm gone
Powder white work, let's get this shit poppin'
And Fuck Tha Police, like them niggas out in Compton
Aah, we too fly for our own good
And you can see the sky shinin' on the chrome hood
And you can smell that money right off the Lou' Vuitton
Self-made millionaire right from the Bronx
On my way to Cali, Kobe, he playin' LeBron
Drop 50 stacks, tell my niggas "Pay the bar"
Stop trippin', that pussy got a nigga hard
And the Am-Ex card blacker than my nigga 'Kon... vict
Music, aaaoooowww!

[Pre-Chorus: Trey Songz]
If it ain't about money, why we wastin' time?
(Until I die) Money's all that's on my mind
[Chorus: Trey Songz]
You can believe that, I'll be where the cheese at
Wrist on froze, better get your hoe
Pocket full of paper, so these haters can't stand me
Ballin' like the Lakers, keep heat like Miami
And she killin' in them jeans, "Baby, won't you take 'em off for me?"
She said she a boss, she ain't talkin'
If it ain't about money, why we wastin' time? (Yeah)
You can believe that, I'll be where the cheese at
Wrist on froze, better get your hoe
Pocket full of paper, so these haters can't stand me
Ballin' like the Lakers, keep heat like Miami
And she killin' in them jeans, "Baby, won't you take 'em off for me?"
She said she a boss, she ain't talkin'
If it ain't about money, why we wastin' time? (Yeah)