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young buck – drug money lyrics

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[hook: young buck + troy ave ]
these n-ggas must not be cooking no c0ke
they ain’t cooking they just frontin’ you heard
these b-tches must be used to being broke
hand on the bible i’mma man of my word
well i got yayo for sale, i got kush for smoke
i ain’t said no sh-t, i’mma push the dope
money, hoes and clothes, i’m talking bout the good life
so now you know what drug money look like

[verse 1: young buck]
miracle whip it, spreadin’ the c0ke over the bread
keep the dr. dre knife with me to poke you in the head
i let my white girl sniff it, it made her open up her legs
my n-gga rudolph snowed it until it’s nose turned red
a d-mn shame, i’m the reason you can’t find your vein
if your daddy stealin’ out your momma’s purse, i’m to blame
tryna get that i8 but i gotta find the name
i ain’t got no credit, i just got cocaine
i mean these n-ggas was like he’s paying car notes
your wrist don’t twist, that’s the reason you are broke
you playin’ with the powder, you n-ggas is all jokes
c’mon dog your never gonna meet carlos
i’m plug for real, i’m tryna feed ya’ll coast
i don’t believe your pictures n-gga or read ya’ll post
your body language telling me you’re broke
and plus obama bout to go
i got my momma weighing up the dope

[hook:]

[verse 2: troy ave]
n-ggas know what drug money look like
all my jewels shine, n-gga i don’t need good light
all my b-tches bad but my foreign a good type
s-cl-ss bands but my porsche had the hood like
that n-gga rich, that n-gga gets
money motherf-cker, he started with selling bricks
well add a little extra, compress it to get the chips
but he stay wise, still lays on his vicks
the boy hide his grits, the boy pot ain’t grits
might use a microwave if i’m tryna do it quick
tryna clock the yay and the fork, that’s water whipped
and sit in on the paps, dry it, i lose a pinch
but what the f-ck is the point when you’re dealing with joints boy
whole birds, covert with us, so no choice
chillin’ in the jail, rappin’ to my brazil
i done chill (?) so people won’t tell

[hook:]

[verse 3: 50 cent]
when i say i’m back for spot, i’m in the number one slot b-tch
lights and the cubans that will f-ck up your optics
i’m raw like sushi, eat the p-ssy, you chop stick
n-ggas go wood, honey, i’m home in the hood
there’s no need to test, this pure c0ke go get it gone
f&n in the palm, extendo in the jaw
you say you bout that bullsh-t, well come and get what you want
you n-ggas lookin’ malnutritioned
100 knots in the yacht, skate across the pacific
sposed to be out the loop, funny how i don’t miss sh-t
it’s all addin’ up, these n-ggas here on some sucker sh-t
the type n-ggas when money come i ain’t f-ckin’ with
now let’s play, let’s make a deal
i’ll show up with the money and tell you who to k!ll
now you say you get busy for real
put n-ggas in the church, i pay you with the work

[hook:]



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