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bad lucc - let's get money lyrics

[hook: bad lucc]
all this grindin’, all this money, gotta get it
if it’s hustlin’ then i’m with it
keep it bangin’, let’s get with it
all my gangsters let’s get work
bawk bawk bawk, you get first
if you scared then go to church
let’s get this money
all my life i’ve been strugglin’ with this paper
keep a strap and f-ck a hater
if i’m in it then i’m ridin’, if i’m bussin’, see you later
got a itchin’ for this meal, keep on flossin’ f-ck a deal
i get mine up out the field, let’s get money

[verse 1: bad lucc]
my (?) n-gga, i done pushed the line
and stayed reppin’ my hood, she lookin’ fine
(?) city n-gga but the cookin’ nine
and (?) suck her down for the look in her
mercenary with it, i was paid to k!ll
(?) vet, i was made as steel
leavin’ n-ggas shook, i’m a crook in the field
(?) with it, i’mma juk in the field
(?) she s-x ho, real g and we next ho
icy fresh on that neck ho, and this .223 make a mess ho
i’m bout the bullsh-t, i push the v
(?) says you lookin’ for me
(?) n-gga feelin’ so froze
wonder how a n-gga stay feelin’ on hoes
(?) suckin’ for the fam i trip
plan dance on ’em, bustin’ head in a vip
me and my bros we about them chips
got an (?) living room, about 120 whips
take the p and i break it down
won’t sell sh-t if it make it round
me and my n-gga tony p off an eighth right now
big dog with it got k right now
kush in the plane, i’m gonna set the mood
you n-ggas ain’t eatin’ better check your food
i put an i don’t give a f-ck n-gga next to you
then i break you in two, put you next to you
i’m a 10-6 hot boy, jump the line
bad luck come by, f-ck the time
i was raised in the hood, i come from that
(?) n-ggas do you bad with your monkey -ss

[hook: bad lucc]

[verse 2: freddie gibbs]
east side n-gga fresh up out the g, insane vice lord 53
carolina park king, mother f-ck a rap dream
talk about a murder when you mention me
i got the yop-yop on deck, gps, vvs on my neck
motherf-ckers better moderate cause i go r-t-rded, never tolerate no disrespect
gangster gibbs ho, i live for these b-tches, dopin’ these dollars
ready to kidnap your kinfolk, you don’t really want these problems
(?) my skin, it’s in my blood, it’s in my nature
momma knew that since a baby she was gone bury me a gangster
choppin’ paper
cluck heads bout to line up
in the dope house finna cook a nine up
just a kush weed fiend with a triple beam dream
is you buyin’ or sellin’? boy make your mind up
n-ggas they be slippin’ and trippin’ f-ckin’ the grind up
tryna hit a l!ck then bright lights behind us
n-ggas wanna hang and slang, you better bang the thag
a penitentiary next place you wind up, i know
still livin’ like a motherf-ckin’ dope dealer
still livin’ like a motherf-ckin’ jack boy
got a pack of the girl, i’m gonna go get her
gone break it down, show me where it’s at boy
thug till my death date
and guarantee that every n-gga my s-x straight
we takin’ trips out of town, got your b-tch bustin’ down
finna put her on a motherf-ckin’ s-x tape with my n-ggas

[hook: bad lucc]

- bad lucc lyrics

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