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guyana – ain’t ’bout money lyrics

[verse 1]
how should i start this?
i was at the lamborghinni till i’m car sick
show’s like [?] i’m charge in
all these bottles you would think that i bought it
n-ggas blow my phone up
crispy cream and [?] my donut
everybody trying to rap but they flow suck
big s-x, i can even make your phone blunt
the rap game give it over
blowin on purple like i play for minnesota
diamonds looking like a box of creoles’
broke b-tches it’s time to hang it up, poster
broke b-tches i will knock you down, bulldozer
i got so much paper you can’t fit it in your folder
i got so much paper you can’t fit it in my pocket
regardless, i’ma hit the club and start balling

[hook]
if it ain’t about money, don’t call my phone
time is money so it’s time to go
everything i do i do it on my own
what you talkin’ bout? now what you talkin’ bout?
if it ain’t about money, don’t call my phone
time is money so it’s time to go
everything i do i do it on my own
what you talkin’ bout? now what you talkin’ bout?

[verse 2]
my money got 100 legs
and your money’s just running place
trying to count my money need another day
money, money, money, money, yeah my money great
so i’m bragging, movie begging
top of the game, call me joe madden
no reebooks but i make cl-ssics
sleeping on me go and find yourself a mattress
and tonight will i’m quite ill
money turn me on like a light bill
all these b-tches fake keep my eyes real
now watch me run the game in some white heels
everybody say guyana’s so nice
[?] on the beat like i’m standing on the mic’
alright, ok, getting’ money, all day (yeah)

- guyana lyrics

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