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p’ocean – money lyrics

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[radio calls of unlv vs loyola maramount for the next spot in the 1990 ncaa tournament]

[hook]
money money money, ima need about a brick
who is this, calling me around 12:46
boy im lit, whats the point of having work if it don’t flip
open shop, where you from, it don’t matter lets get rich

[verse 1: p’]
money money money all these flows i’m tryna flip
got these raps up in a package tryna roll, take a trip
go from mamas lunch with cheese to linguini with the shrimp
find ya coach p’ocean rollin potent plottin with a limp

sippin out the tin, born city of sin
built to win, tryna build
tryna stack why my b-tches tryna spend
she don’t see we run it like i roll em baby, end to end
she just tryna hit my pocket i move out like donovan mcnabb

ain’t no b-tch gon touch the stash
why my last one did the dash
just wanted to swim and i took more than a dip in that
dipped out with my windows down, plotting past the runner up
10 bands ain’t really sh-t if you work till the summer up

im stayin close to the green, plenty far from the purp
they say they g to the genes im seeing signs of a skirt
she tryna f-ck wit my team, busy makin it twerk
she couldn’t make it to work how i pray you make it to church

[hook]

[verse 2: schwoogi]
last night i didn’t get to sleep, money likes to interfere
luckily i k!lled some beers, trippin off my trippy kit
money money money place it neatly in my palm
i be coolin off a 8th of grapes while drinking drunk and driving home

first i made a pitstop, for condoms beer and newports
my side b-tch getting paid tonite so you know what they used for
plus i don’t have to ask for sh-t, she already know the biz
hustle first and make it back, thats what keeps me interested

riders riding with me getting slizzard stacking stupid cheese
fresh as f-ck, still a bum, with mouthpiece like them hookah things
lit, ima need all my percentage. trip, and watch me warm up like a scrimmage
anything goes when it comes to the hoes, i swear a n-gga 8 mile living

by any means, i done seen many teens f-ck up opportunity
took the wrong route, looked away from the scout, then next week, read the n-gga eulogy, its sad
what i gotta do for the cash, mad, learned how to move without a dad
money meant everything, until i seen the devil chilling at the bottom of my gl-ss

[hook]

- pocean lyrics

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