Music Video

Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
The Beatnuts
The Beatnuts
Performer
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Fernando Arbex
Fernando Arbex
Composer
Juju
Juju
Songwriter
Psycho Les
Psycho Les
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
The Beatnuts
The Beatnuts
Producer
Chris Conway
Chris Conway
Mixing Engineer
Alex Kyriazis
Alex Kyriazis
Recording Engineer

Lyrics

Yea, yea. uh-uh! Mm-mmm! Get money, get money! (Get, get money, get money) (Get, get money, get money) Uh-uh! (Get) GET MONEY, GET MONEY (get that money) (Get) GET MONEY, GET MONEY Yeah, GET MONEY, GET MONEY . "Listen to the first verse" "Watch out now!" (Psycho Les) Aiyyo my song's on, I gotta get my grub on some to-to (I love to-to) Order three buckets of Mo'-Mo' We gettin more dough, off the books (you gettin gelly) Pullin more hoes off the looks (you gettin gelly) You wan' hate me? Cause your wifey, wants a autograph? From the look in her eyes, I can see she wants more than that When I see fat asses I make fat passes like quarterback Beatnuts is ALLA THAT, your shit, ALL THE WACK Open can-dela, if you foolin wit mah cheddah Hardrock, ever since, junior high suela Fly fella, takin my beats, to make your crowd get up I'm fed up, niggaz wanna bring it -- WHATEVER! I'ma storm your pa-rade (pa-rade) blow your legs off With a gre-nade, now you flappin, like a mermaid Yappin off, bitch you cough at the lips While I'm at the bar, baggin, the bartender tips Then I bag this chick, with a, "Hi," and the eye She did the butterfly, rubbin her ass, against my buttonfly I could ALREADY imagine my shit stuck inside Everytime I strike, haters be like, "Dat fucking guy!" Beatnuts + Yellaklaw How's that yo? It's hard for you to swallow It don't take much for us to let the metal holla Lead's bustin out of a old black Impala Thug nigga only fuck wit, muchacha mala Big Ju, dimelo coño, how we do?, how we do? (How we do) (How the girl don't only love me, they love you!) Whatchu gonna do? (What, what, what?) Nigga whatchu gonna do? (What, yo) (JuJu) Here's to my pollyin niggaz who campaign To the killers who be lovin the chicas and champagne Thugs who get wild in the club and snatch chains Players who be pimpin the hoes with no brains Front watch a nigga get shot from close range The most range, crazy motherfucker won't change Beatnuts, forever diehard, you want pain? Cause you walkin outta here breathin is insane Flip a beat fast, you leave the club with a heat rash You got a weak stash, came in the club with a free pass I ain't even know they made a Roley for your cheap ass Makin me laugh, you was in jail wearin kneepads Now the beef has, gotten over your head It's over you dead, Ranger Rover, both of your legs Til both of us said, platinum gettin took this year Cause for real, there ain't nothin but crooks in here, nigga -> Beatnuts last line "Whatcha gon' do when Beatnuts come through baby!" (Beatnuts) (Get money, get money) Psycho Les (Get money, get money) Big Ju (Get money, get money) Beatnuts (Get money, get money) (Get money, get money) (Get money, get money) Throw your hands up, throw your hands up (Get money, get money) Throw your hands up, throw your hands up...
Writer(s): Jose Fernando Arbex Miro, Jerry R. Tineo, Lester Fernandez Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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