Money - King Ray, Young Scooter

Money, money, money, money

20's, 50's, hundreds

Money, money, money, money

We working them trenches

In my neighborhood

Everything all good

Everybody get in to it

Money, money, money, money

20's, 50's, hundreds

Money, money, money, money

A thousand, bricks

Hector, he keep it coming

Every day I cap a hundred

Thousand, nigga

I’m getting money

So it’s no more serving junkies

Thinking bout that half a mill, I drew it out the carcass

Real shit, no lie, just me and a couple junkies

That 4−4 shit have a nigga money hungry

Keep 100 thousand on me

To blow it with my homie

Taylor, Gang

Nigga I rep that over everything

See me I live life in the fast lane

Nigga I’m taking shots, smoking Mary Jane

Don’t need security, I got my own goons

Keep Forgiato rims on all my old schools

Ain’t talking shit, boy i’m talking money

Khalifa, throwing hundreds

Fuck thirsty, them bitches hungry for this

Money, I wanna marry you

You know I really need you

Remember that day you left me

I couldn’t believe it

Couldn’t eat, couldn’t sleep, couldn’t think

I couldn’t do shit without you

But them birds up under that sink

Stretch 'em out, that’s what Young Scooter do

Every hundred pack I get I bury bout a brick or two

That’s just for the drop

Whatever I get, that shit get ran through

Drugs in the south, I made drugs out west too

Take a chance for that paper, that’s what money do

Money, money, money, money

20's, 50's, hundreds

Money, money, money, money