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2pac – i’m gettin’ money (og original version) lyrics

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[intro]
get money, n-gga
yeah – aw yeah
dedicate this one to all the hustlers
that get up every motherf-ckin’ mornin’ and put they work in
i see you – i see you, boy

[verse 1]
i’m up before sunrise first to hit the block
lil’ bad motherf-cker with a pocket full of rocks
learned to throw them thangs, get my skinny lil’ -ss kicked
n-ggas laughed, ’til the first motherf-cker got blasted
i put the n-gga in his casket
and now they coverin’ the b-st-rd in plastic
i smoke blunts on the regular, f-ck when it counts
tryin’ to make a million dollars out a quarter ounce
gettin’ ghost on the five-o, f-ck them hoes
got a .45 screamin’ out “survival”
hey n-gga, can i lay low, cook some yeyo?
holla “five-o” when i say so
don’t wanna go to the pen’, i’m hittin’ fences
narc’s on a n-gga back missin’ me by inches
and they say how do you survive, weighin’ one-fifty-five
in the city where the little n-ggas die
tell mama don’t cry, ’cause even if they k!ll me
they can never take the life of a real g

[chorus]
i’m gettin’ money
(“if you die, you’s a busta, ’cause real n-ggas don’t die)
i’m gettin’ money
(“if you die, you’s a busta, ’cause real n-ggas don’t die)
yeah, i’m gettin’ money
(“if you die, you’s a busta, ’cause real n-ggas don’t die)
i’m gettin’ money
(“if you die, you’s a busta, ’cause real n-ggas don’t die)
(watch out, rollers, n-gga)

[verse 2]
still on parole and i’m the first n-gga servin’
pour some liquor on the curb, for my homies that deserve it
if i wanna make a million, gotta stay dealin’
kinda boomin’ round the way, i think today i make a k!llin’
dressin’ down like i’m dirty, but only on the block
just a clever disguise, to keep me runnin’ from the cops
i’m gettin’ high, think i’ll die if i don’t get no ends
i’m in a bucket but i’m ridin’ it like it’s a benz
i hit the strip i let my music bump
drinkin’ liquor and i’m lookin’ for a b-tch to f-ck
rather die makin’ money, than live poor and legal
as i slang another ounce, i wish it was a kilo
i need money in a major way
time to f-ck my girl, she gettin’ paid today, ha ha ha
i live thug life and let the money come to me
’cause they can never take the game from a young g

[chorus]
i’m gettin’ money
(“if you die, you’s a busta, ’cause real n-ggas don’t die)
i’m gettin’ money
(“if you die, you’s a busta, ’cause real n-ggas don’t die)
i’m gettin’ money
(“if you die, you’s a busta, ’cause real n-ggas don’t die)
i’m gettin’ money
(“if you die, you’s a busta, ’cause real n-ggas don’t die)

[verse 3]
d-mned if i don’t, and d-mned if a n-gga do
now watch a young motherf-cker pull the trigger too
raise up, and don’t let them see ya cry
dry your eyes, young n-gga, time for do or die
i pack a pistol in my pocket, ready on my glock
ain’t no time for a n-gga to even c-ck sh-t
i done seen a motherf-cker peep pain
at point blank range cause he slept on the game
ain’t a d-mn thing changed
you’re shakin’ the dice, now roll ’em
if you can’t stand pain better hold ’em
’cause ain’t no tellin’ what ya might roll
you might fold, catch aids from a slight cold
you better live ya life to the fullest
be quick to k!ll a bull, got a pistol, motherf-cker, better pull it
and even if they k!ll me
they can never take the life of a young g

[chorus]
i’m gettin’ money
(“if you die, you’s a busta, ’cause real n-ggas don’t die)
i’m gettin’ money
(“if you die, you’s a busta, ’cause real n-ggas don’t die)
i’m gettin’ money
(“if you die, you’s a busta, ’cause real n-ggas don’t die)
i’m gettin’ money
(“if you die, you’s a busta, ’cause real n-ggas don’t die)