Listen to Ya'll Ain't Makin' No Money by Webbie

Ya'll Ain't Makin' No Money

Webbie

Hip-Hop/Rap

Music Video

Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Webbie
Webbie
Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
D. Simms
D. Simms
Songwriter
Jeremy Varnard Allen
Jeremy Varnard Allen
Songwriter
Webster Gradney Jr.
Webster Gradney Jr.
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Mouse On tha Track
Mouse On tha Track
Producer
Simms
Simms
Producer

Lyrics

(Verse 1) Woke up from a long night of sex this mornin Brushed my teeth, got fresh this mornin Hear my girl talk a lil mess this mornin Hit the hood got a bag of that this mornin Know im livin' good all them dog hoes on me Good dope sells all over my phone Know im finna keep it gangsta all over this song Got my hands all over this chrome Nigga act hard all day long mayne fuck that Mayne i'll put it on my chain you wont bust a gat Mayne let me take you to the backyard Different color lacks boy Half a mil' cash in ya hand ya'll dont understand Bricks in my pants say lil dude this grown man shit Why is you sayin shit, who is you playin wit I got a big house, who is you stayin wit Till you can spend this type of shit on ya wrist (Chorus) Ya'll aint makin no money, ya'll aint makin no money Ya'll aint really doin nothin, ya'll aint thuggin, ya'll stuntin Ya'll aint makin no money, ya'll aint makin no money Ya'll aint really doin nothin, ya'll aint thuggin, ya'll stuntin Ya'll aint makin no money, ya'll aint makin no money Ya'll aint really doin nothin, ya'll aint thuggin, ya'll stuntin Ya'll aint makin no money, ya'll aint makin no money Ya'll aint really doin nothin, ya'll just fuckin around (Verse 2) You saved up yo chips, to buy you a whip Music with the big rims, boy you a trip If you knew what i was worth boy i bet you would flip And the majority of these bitches i done already ripped These hoes rippin off a pimp (what!) Tell that bitch stock earings hit me for a block to the wrist watch Got a couple niggas up in jail, they aint gettin out Webbie young savage trill fam we aint sittin out Had my wife beater and my braclets and my pants on Bitch i still had 85 grand on Think i aint demonic gettin on then ya damn wrong Play with me, i wouldnt even take a chance on it Bitch put ya pants on, get ya ass gone 9 times outta 10 you aint stayin long Devil ass niggas ive been tryin not to stand on em Mayne im hot, mayne ya'll need to turn tha fan on (Chorus) (Verse 3) We hit tha spot and get to blowin it, pourin it We gettin money like we growin it A lot of hunnid 50 dolla bottles got us pourin it Drankin till im throwin it, i'll see ya'll in the morning See me put the tag in the window, just soarin it My hips say i warn ya, my whip say im doin it All im sayin, man dont complain, i'll ruin it I'll clean a hunnid grand out tha trunk and put you in it Bitch niggas hate, niggas cake, niggas fake, a minute late Album waitin, real estate, nigga ate like a buffet And i just got tha new J's, these go good with my new shades Stopped by the shop, got a new fade, gotta thank god for (?) Straight to the hood to see some new cake Aye that crown will mess with my shake No matter where you go ima stay in yo place If you aint gettin no money better stay in your place Grim dont stop then we goin all day So iced out, it been snowin all day Trill ent and we goin all day Ya'll niggas broke and its all in ya'll face (Chorus)
Writer(s): Author Unknown Composer, Jeremy Allen, Webster Gradney Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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