Gotta Make That Money (Album Version) (Album Version|Explicit)

Gotta Make That Money - TQ/E-40

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 that he keep me

I used to be the kind of nigga

That didn't give a f**k 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

And even if the sun don't shine

I'll still be hustlin'

Gotta get that money

Make that money

Keep it coming if it takes all night

Can't be struggling

Somebody come help me

Can ya tell me

Why is slangin' always on my mind

Must be bugging

I guess they figured

I would quit and they could get me

If they tapped my line

Don't mean nothing

I'll still be hustling

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 go get mine

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 getting they scrilla

Won't be no time to f**k with mine

So won't be killing

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

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 nothing

I'll still be hustlin'

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 war-rank

Just ride your runners fool

Be 'bout your bank

Sittin' fat like chupling

All about my money

Duffle bags full of scratch

Artillery fire arms and gats

Reep my mill cap my feddy

Get my bread

Hirries on my tail

But I'm tryin' for them

But they want me dead 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'

Chris Alberchuck 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

Biatch