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young buck – dope man money lyrics

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[young buck:]
yeah
money gettin’ n-gg-s ‘gon love this
broke n-gg-s ‘gon hate it

[verse 1: young buck]
hate me, love me, still i’m a boss
brand new coupe didn’t take the tag off
entre-po n-gg-
give some mo’ n-gg-
military mind back down from no n-gg-
where did you go n-gg-?
i could make it rain
with some hundred dollar bills or a hundred of them
things
candy apple green, no tints, no chrome
catch me in the streets ’till six in the morn

[verse 2: sosa]
i keep one in the hone and a gun on my hip
just called my phone, you want somethin’ to sniff?
19.5 you want one of them bricks
like a subway combo come with them chips
and i show no love when it come to a b-tch
she just want me cause my c-ke six hundred and six
yeah, this what you call a dope man b-tch
but i don’t tell her nothin’ cause these hos ain’t sh-t

[chorus: young buck]
if it don’t make dollars then it don’t make sense
dope man money with a dope man b-tch
big ballin’ baby my whole clique rich
big ballin’ baby i know we the sh-t
if it don’t make dollars then it don’t make sense
dope man money with a dope man b-tch
big ballin’ baby my whole clique rich
big ballin’ baby i know we the sh-t

[verse 3: hi-c]
see i lick c-ke, breathe in hydro
look like green money n-gg- i know
i ride slow
with the .40 cal i know
smokin’ on that purple haze sh-t ’till my eyes low
my b-tch got nine os for the five four
she’ll let the nine go
oh yeah thats high ho
my ho
yeah a dope man b-tch
if it don’t make dollars then it don’t make sense

[verse 4: sosa]
the ’65 look good enough to drink
grey goose seats with the cranberry paint
ya’ll wish i could sell c-ke forever but i can’t
just one more load and i’m f-ckin’ with real estate
i’ve been up for a week, from the first to the eighth
peicin’ out grams and i still got the weight
if i get too tired pop a pill i’m straight
i’ll show you how to fit a couple mill in the safe
g unit south

[chorus: young buck]
if it don’t make dollars then it don’t make sense
dope man money with a dope man b-tch
big ballin’ baby my whole clique rich
big ballin’ baby i know we the sh-t
if it don’t make dollars then it don’t make sense
dope man money with a dope man b-tch
big ballin’ baby my whole clique rich
big ballin’ baby i know we the sh-t

[young buck:]
put your money in the air
put your money in the air
ballin’ baby
ballin’ baby
we gettin’ money over here
they gettin’ money over there
what up all star?
my n-gg- hi-c
sosa
g unit south b-tch
ca$hville records we got this
cut the motherf-ckin’ check

- young buck lyrics

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