ice cube - get money, spend money, no money lyrics
“get money, spend money, no money”
yeah
gangsta
uh
[verse 1 – ice cube]
tell me all my children
‘fore i come through, is the hood in the building? (yes)
you won’t believe what i’m dealin
this west coast sh-t, oh what a feelin (ah)
n-gg-z think i’m drug dealin
’cause i roll by with no motherf-ckin ceiling (none)
is he worth a hundred million?
no need to ask ice cube how i’m livin (how ya livin loc?)
i still got the recipe
south central la is the pedigree
don’t try to tell me what it better be
i have your -ss up in physical therapy
a outlaw like a cherokee
the rap industry tried to bury me
but if i died on the mic up at larry b
i’m so heavy you b-tches couldn’t carry me
[chorus – ice cube – 2x]
get money, spend money, no money, lookin like a dummy
(i really don’t give a f-ck)
your money ain’t my f-ckin money, got a pocket full of money
(come on homie throw it up)
[verse 2 – ice cube]
i don’t accept no disrespect
only thing i expect is self check
just grin and bare it
got an -ss whoopin that your -ss don’t wanna inherit
most rappers are parrots
they say what they told to say, to get a neck full of carrots/karats
got your mama embarr-ssed
how long ‘fore they callin us terrorists? n-gg-, i’m serious
i, keep it gangsta but i keeps a job
’cause it’s, hard to sleep when you steal and rob
and ya, got to run here comes the blob
’cause, uncle sam is like part of the mob
break your self he’ll take your wealth
don’t get it twisted, you a motherf-ckin elf
and santa claus will go for self
all you got is your b-lls and your health
[chorus – 2x]
[verse 3 – ice cube]
n-gg-z brag about what they got
but we don’t own a skyscr-per, now that’s paper (now that’s paper)
one generation from slums
happy for these little crumbs, you little b-ms
we saw you pull up but n-gg- shut up (shut up)
you always talkin about a f-ckin car or truck
you always talkin about some f-ckin rims or interior
that kind of sh-t’ll keep our -ss inferior
i’m tryin to eat tomorrow
ain’t tryin to hear about the little bitty sh-t you bought
saw your little bitty house on “cribs”
where you f-ck your wife and feed your kids (uh uh)
n-gg- be quiet, ain’t sh-t private
everything for sale, you can buy it
all this self snitchin, all this self tellin
motherf-ckers goin back to the watermelon
[chorus – 4x]
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