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Get Money (feat. Junior M.A.F.I.A.) (2007 Remaster)
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Crédits

INTERPRÉTATION
Junior M.A.F.I.A.
Junior M.A.F.I.A.
Chœurs
The Notorious B.I.G.
The Notorious B.I.G.
Chant
Lil' Kim
Lil' Kim
Chant
Sylvia Striplin
Sylvia Striplin
Artiste samplé
COMPOSITION ET PAROLES
James Bedford
James Bedford
Paroles/Composition
Christopher Wallace
Christopher Wallace
Paroles/Composition
Lamont Porter
Lamont Porter
Paroles/Composition
Roy Ayers
Roy Ayers
Paroles/Composition
Sylvia Striplin
Sylvia Striplin
Paroles/Composition
Kimberly Jones
Kimberly Jones
Paroles/Composition
PRODUCTION ET INGÉNIERIE
The Notorious B.I.G.
The Notorious B.I.G.
Production déléguée
Conrad Dimanche
Conrad Dimanche
Production associée
Jacob York
Jacob York
Production associée
Harve "Joe Hooker" Pierre
Harve "Joe Hooker" Pierre
Production déléguée
Craig Kallman
Craig Kallman
Production déléguée
Lance "Un" Rivera
Lance "Un" Rivera
Production déléguée
Faith Evans
Faith Evans
Production déléguée
Mark Pitts
Mark Pitts
Production déléguée
Voletta Wallace
Voletta Wallace
Production déléguée
Wayne Barrow
Wayne Barrow
Production déléguée
Chris Athens
Chris Athens
Ingénierie de mastérisation
DJ Clark Kent
DJ Clark Kent
Ingénierie de mixage
Kenny Ortiz
Kenny Ortiz
Ingénierie de mixage
EZ Elpee
EZ Elpee
Production
DJ Mister Cee
DJ Mister Cee
Production associée
Sean Combs
Sean Combs
Production

Paroles

Fuck bitches, get money. fuck niggaz, get money Hehehe WHAT? Uhh, sex em up The fuck? That shit ain't even? big boy Oh aight, you don't, you don't get none of that shit Uhh, check it out Bout to "get money" You wanna sip Mo' on my living room flo' Play Nintendo with Cease-a-Leo Pick up my phone say, "Poppa not home" Sex all night, mad head in the morn' Spin my V, smoke all my weed Tattoo on tit-tie sayin B-I-G, now check it You wanna be my main squeeze baby Don'tcha, you wanna gimme what I need baby Won'tcha, picture life as my wife just think Full length mink, fat X and O links Bracelets to match, conversation was all that Showed you the safe combinations and all that Guess you could say youse the one I trusted Who would ever think that you would spread like mustard? Shit got hot, you sent Feds to my spot Took me to court, tried to take all I got 'Nother intricate plot, the bitch said I raped her "Damn, why she wanna stick me for my paper?" My Mo-sci-no hoe, my Ver-sa-ce hottie Come to find out, you was fuckin everybody You knew about me, the fake ID Cases in Virginia, body in D.C. Woe, oh is me, that's what I get for trickin Pay my own bail, commence to ass kickin Lick in the door, wavin the four-four All you heard was, "Poppa don't hit me no more" Disrespect my click, my shit's imperial Fuck around and made her milkbox material You feel me? Suckin dick, runnin your lips 'Cause of you, I'm on some real fuck a bitch shit, uhh. Fuck bitches, get money. fuck niggaz, get money WHAT? I see mad girls like you You seen mad girls just ACTIN hot I'm tellin you though There AIN'T nobody like me You just frontin, there's people out like that? Uhh, whoo! Get at me Whoo, I told you niggaz Niggaz. betta grab a seat Grab on your dick as this bitch gets deep Deeper than the pussy of a bitch six feet Stiff dicks feel sweet in this little petite Young bitch from the street, guaranteed to stay down Used to bring work outta town on Greyhound Now I'm Billboard bound, niggaz press to hit it Play me like a chicken, thinkin I'm pressed to get it Rather do the killin than the stick up jooks Rather count a million while you eat my pussy Push me to the limit get my feelings in it Get me open while I'm cummin down your throat Then, you wanna be my main squeeze nigga Don'tcha, you wanna lick between my knees nigga Don'tcha wanna see me whippin your 3 down the Ave. Blow up spots on bitches because I'm mad Break up affairs lick shots in the air You get vexed, and start swingin everywhere Me shifty? Now you wanna pistol whip me Pull out your nine, while I cock on mine Yeah what nigga? I ain't got time for this So what nigga? I'm not tryin to hear that shit Now you wanna buy me diamonds and Armani suits Adrienne Vitadini and Chanel 9 boots Things that make up, for all the games and the lies Hallmark cards, sayin, "I apologize" Is you wit me? How could you ever decieve me But payback's a bitch motherfucker, believe me Naw I ain't gay this aint no lesbo flow Just a lil somethin, to let you motherfuckers know Fuck bitches, get money. fuck niggaz, get money (*repeat to end*) Wait a minute, wait a minute Back up, just give me that shit, this shit is mine Oh you want my numbers and shit? Look, now you wanna? I'm all that bitch, don't ask You're fuckin with a bitch named Aphrodite Y'all believe that shit? Just playin with you, worrd? daddy is all that, oh word? I'm talkin bout some presidents Talkin bout this motherfuckin cash Whatever you don't think about this My nickname was Jesus in high school You don't even believe that shit! God don't believe that shit! I'm the supreme being baby
Writer(s): Lamont Porter, Kimberly Jones, Christopher Wallace, James Lloyd, Roy Ayers, Sylvia Denise Striplin, B. Bedford Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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