drake feat. rick ross - money in the grave (drake ft. rick ross) lyrics
yeah, okay
lil cc what a beat, hmm
yeah, yeah
i mean, where the f-ck should i really even start?
i got hoes that i’m keeping in the dark
i got my n-gg-s ‘cross the street living large
thinking back to the fact that they dead
thought my raps wasn’t facts ’til they sat with the bars
i got two phones, one need a charge
yeah, they twins, i could tell they -ss apart
i got big packs coming on the way
i got big stacks coming out the safe
i got lil max with me, he the wave
it’s a big gap between us in the game
in the next life, i’m tryna stay paid
when i die, put my money in the grave
when i die, put my money in the grave
i really gotta put a couple n-gg-s in they place
really just lapped every n-gg- in the race
i really might tat, “realest n-gg-” on my face
lil cc, let it slap with the b-ss
i used to save hoes with a mask and a cape
now i’m like, “nah, love, i’m good, go away”
ain’t about to die with no money, i done gave it
i was on top when that sh-t meant a lot
still on top like i’m scared of the drop
still on top and these n-gg-s wanna swap
n-gg-s wanna swap like it’s slauson or watts
i don’t wanna change ’cause i’m good where i’m at
mob ties on ’em, always good where i’m at
word to junior, jazzy, baby j
tell ’em when i die, put my money in the grave
couple figures, k!llers call and collect (collect)
she f-ck a n-gg-, then she on to the next (next)
really living large, she in awe with a mack
when you n-gg-s thinking small, in the mall with a rat (rat)
roll with us if you really wanna get it (get it)
go get a half a million in the sprinter (sprinter)
phone ringing, b-tches know a big tipper (tipper)
i got the hookup and there’s really no limit (limit)
dead broke is in you n-gg-s’ dna (dna)
rickey smiley’s in decatur with the ‘ye
lil’ n-gg-, just another state case
bury my motherf-cking chase bank, time to bounce (bounce)
gotta count on my allowance (gotta count on my allowance)
you n-gg-s snitches so i gotta reroute it (do or die)
a n-gg- dripping like i got a zillion dollars
got the trap jumping like zion when
i rebound, then i’m out (then i’m out)
and i’ll never talk about it (about it)
the homies quiet, but we all smoke the loudest (loudest)
rich n-gg-s and i’m really being modest
’cause the way i do my deals,
never treated like a artist, want house (house)
you could dm my accountant
my per diem six figures and i’m counting
nine figures was the goal till i hit it
these n-gg-s ain’t living, so bury mine with me
ross got it! (maybach music)
when i die, put my money in the grave
i really gotta put a couple n-gg-s in they place
really just lapped every n-gg- in the race
i really might tat, “realest n-gg-” on my face
lil cc, let it slap with the b-ss
i used to save hoes with a mask and a cape
now i’m like, “nah, love, i’m good, go away”
ain’t about to die with no money, i done gave it
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