The Money

Pull up to the club all blackberg in it

Doors go up Kelly step out icy

Yall all know why they want to leave with a fella like me

The money the money

Take them to the crib let 'em sip on a few drinks

Shortly after that have them all strip for me

Man it ain't no secret why these chicks all fuck with me

The money the money

Why they make em shake ass in your face the money

Bring your girlfriend with her to your place the money

It's the weather man telling you the money makes the girls go round

(Fat Joe)

Yall know me its psumnami joe

The Puerto Rican mc with the fiery flow

And I keeping asking why she love me so

And she keeps saying not cause of the doe

But every time we stop front of da store

She gonna act like Busta yo gimmy some more

Now I don't usually pitty a broad

But she was working with her fat ass titties galore

And Trash told me that he hit it before

He met her at the strip club back in New York

Now my dumb ass went bought out the store

Talking everything from Gucci Christian Dior

Now mi amor it's either or you wifey material or be my whore

Anyway you put it I'mma even the score

I got 30 just like you wait in the car

Chorus:

(Fabolous)

They say money talks this time over a flute loop

I like a chick who could ball but her cute swoops

I'm nothing but many mansions and cute coupes

Rainbow storms the same color as fruit loops

High attract chicks in high elute group

They like ballers who don't actually shoot hoops

It ain't really me what could it really be

Cause I'm just a ghetto boy like Willie D

They say the money be making me look Billy dee's

And i thought i was kinda cute silly me

But ask a girl i done been with before i spend with the dought

'Til she look like Jennifer Lo...pez

You could be in saint Tro...pez

If you do what the man with the dough says

And that's why the models sticking close

Yeah a dollar and a dream I'm lotto ticket most

Chorus:

(Busta Rhymes)

Yo

The way a nigga swag sick and I step right

Bitches call a nigga brad pit cause my bread right

We know you niggas broke and you tight fraud my money

Attract Eddie Murphy's ex-wife with them tight bras

I keep it hood like New Orleans in a knife war

When mammy's try to touch my bread i sting out they spine cord

I laugh at these bitches I see how they plot funny

After they see me make it rain mansion and yacht money

When they see us they be like they be them

Niggas said now let's stake it have access like ATM

Trust you better punch the right pin code

And just in case u ain't knowing u better punch flip mode

Bread stack like mountains in Colorado

I'll make you want to give me head to the rhythm and the sound of Movado

The reggae artist take a look at the dread without the locks tell me what you really want to do for this bread

Shorty