Money, Weed, Blow (Cocaine Mafia 2011)

Текст песни Project Pat feat Juicy J, French Montana - Money, Weed, Blow (Cocaine Mafia 2011)

[Hook x8]
Money money weed blow pimpin' pimpin' lots of hoes
Money money weed blow pimpin' pimpin' lots of hoes
Money money weed blow pimpin' pimpin' lots of hoes
Money money weed blow pimpin' pimpin' lots of hoes

[Verse 1: French Montana]
When my niggas come get you
Ain't nobody run with you
I hit you with the chopper fix yo ass proper
Cali on the roll, hustlin' in the cold
Pockets full of stacks and a trunk full of o's
We the hottest niggas out, boxing niggas out
Fuck all the paint, light up the thang
Lemme get you in the mood
Get you in the groove
Does it all the time, do it from the ground
Fuck you think, fishing the tank
Everybody watching, hustle nonstop
Cocaine Mafia, 4-5th pop ya
Think you out ya mind, I’ll put ya mind out ya
Got me on my side with pills and lean
Glock 10 shots, and a fucking beam
Purple lambo, smoking a Rambo
Take my chances, life's a gamble
Low in my ammo, looking for the payback
I know you bitch niggas since way back
Fill up my need, fill up arenas
All mixtapes, we bury niggas you think
Johny Hancock filling up the blank
Two headshots blood in yo mink
Montana juice hard as a tank
These other rap niggas ain't hard as you think
[Hook x8]
Money money weed blow pimpin' pimpin' lots of hoes
Money money weed blow pimpin' pimpin' lots of hoes
Money money weed blow pimpin' pimpin' lots of hoes
Money money weed blow pimpin' pimpin' lots of hoes

[Verse 2: Juicy J]
Who that, who that riding in the street
Riding in a silver phantom
Who that, who that guap on the weed
Other drug dealers can't stand him
Who that, who that be in the club
Throwing down lots of money
Who that, who that be on the ground
Probably tryna get this money
This nigga is too real
Stay high and pop pills
Hell yea I'm cocky
Cuz I don't grow meals
I turned out many hoes
I turned out many shows
I did what you tryna do
I done fucked yo momma to
A lot of these niggas be hating on me
And the girlfriends be waving on me
They see me still getting these racks and cheese
Ain't no nigga [?]
We own everything that's in the lot
I'm dealing cash I don't [?]
[?]
I'ma take you somewhere homie where I own the lot
[Hook]

[Verse 3: Project Pat]
I'm with my niggas out the north side, In Memphis we cool though
Hanging out in the traps with real killas slanging good dough
Robbery can get done
I just need a reason
They paying me my foils boy
Now that's good reason
Or straight suicide, Now I gotta tax that ass
40 barrel to his head, pay me up or we crack yo cast
[?]
I'm just trying to advance
Caught a nigga slippin', shot his ass for a whole brick
Gotta go quick, cuz this here could be my last shot
I'm fucked in yo spot with the guns pouring masks out
But a lick for a brick
Like a nut with no jag on
Or a junkie glass pipin' out bout to blast off