Kenny Mason ft. Freddie Gibbs - Much Money Lyrics

Ain't finna argue when nobody harder
Ain't finna argue with nobody daughter
You only bossy 'cause somebody spoiled you
You only bossed up when nobody chargin'
I only tear up whenever I start it
To look where we at 'cause I know where we started
Miss me with static, you know that we brought it
It's automatic like those are the target
Totin' the target, won't miss our target
With the lil' beam on it, won't miss a martian
With that lil' beam on it, won't miss a marble
Call the lil' demon, he gon' hit your marbles
Put up my finger and finger a goddess
A Venus, I'm eatin' out eve in her garden
Ain't no, no eatin' out, we gettin' leaner now
Niggas been readin' now, we gettin' smarter
Even the odds and get even odder
Seek any broads in need of ménages
Leanin' or leadin' on gullible people
To think that you hard is leavin' me nauseous
Bitch, I really know niggas in pain
Share my vision for niggas that can't
Knew your shit wasn't legit when you gave
Your attention to ignorant claims

I swear to God
Bitch, I might run my life with this spark
I can tell off the top he was flawed
I can tell how he talk, he a fraud (freeze, freeze, freeze)
man, these niggas won't die for the squad
Bet these niggas won't die for the squad
Bet these niggas won't die for the squad
Bet these niggas won't die for the squad (squad and Moët, yeah)

Yeah, put that on Fendi ain't nobody harder
Bitch, you would never be top, beg your pardon (yeah, yeah)
Labels get fed and these artists, they starvin'
I was gon' be a rich nigga regardless (yeah, yeah)
Big reppin', gon' whip that brick up regardless
Known in the shop, fix your trap and your barber
Watseka Town, we sell rocks like the Carter
Big boy gon' hard fry that fishscale, no tarter
Yeah, I could group a bitches in a drop-top, yeah
Seen a Lamborghini, gave me slop-top, yeah
Seven in the mornin' murkin' opps out, yeah
Knockin' bone, bone, bone like a kid from St. Clair
First of the month, I hit my geeker with a Tina
I moved on to the yayo, I was finished with the reefer
Fifty in this MAC-11, 'bout to shoot at the polices
I was chillin' in the strip club, fuckin' Liberia

Bet these niggas won't die for the squad
Got that eight-fifty out for the squad
Bitch, you got all them pistols but ain't gon' shoot shit
I think you scared to die for the squad (nigga, you ain't gon' shoot shit)
Chopper hot, man, I put that on God (God)
Bet these fuck-niggas callin' the Sarge (man, they callin' the Sarge)
Bitch, you got on new pistols but ain't gon' shoot shit
You gon' snitch if they give you a charge (give you a charge)
Bet these niggas won't die for the squad

Bitch, I might run my life with this spark
I can tell off the top he was flawed
I can tell how he talk, he a fraud (freeze, freeze, freeze)
man, these niggas won't die for the squad
Bet these niggas won't die for the squad
Bet these niggas won't die for the squad
Bet these niggas won't die for the squad

I swear to God
Bitch, I might run my life with this spark
I can tell off the top he was flawed
I can tell how he talk, he a fraud
Know these niggas won't die for the squad
Know these niggas won't die for the squad
Know these niggas won't die for the squad
Know these niggas won't, know these niggas won't
Bet that niggas won't