Protagonist, Dan Green - Get the Money Lyrics

Tryna link up wit a brinks truck, blow that thing up

I just want the dollar dollar bills yall
And if I cant get that I probly got to kill y'all
I never felt it was nothin special about me
But as I got older noticed attention around me
Are they laughin at me or they laughin wit me
And at this point in my life the answer hasn't hit me
I dont know if they like me or not, it's likely a plot
Many possibilities dont excite me alot
But I ain't tryna put my finger on the answer yet
Demand respect, and make them wanna advance a check
Back packers wanna pretend it ain't about the cream
I ain't sayin do it only for paper but let's be real
A couple hand shakes and daps will never pay ya bills
I ain't leavin earth yet but I'm levitatin still
Some of ya rappers in the booth give me that medicated feel
Cause the beats be movin but you be two steps ahead of it
You talkin nonsense so they should vote you next for president
Warning, people gon be offended by the verse
But all that's tellin me is I'm the truth cause I hurt

Dollar dollar bill y'all/ that's what I'm chasin I just got to keep it real y'all
But yet and still yall, promise I'm still raw
You know I got distemper I mean I'm I'll dog
Dollar dollar bill y'all/ that's what I'm chasin I just got to keep it real y'all
But yet and still yall, promise I'm still raw
You know I got distemper I mean I'm I'll dog

Pull up on me, grab a seat
And I ain't hypoglycemic but yo I have eat
And every paragraph I be sharin has
Just a bit of hunger so these beats I got to tear in half
And whether I have to rap or sing
Men in black mixed wit a perv I want them flashy things
Pause, like watches or flashy rings
And be the one to stop the show when I pass the scene
When the director yells cut, I'm still shinin still blindin
Still it ain't a nigga that's real like it I feel like it's
Like birdman reunited with the clipse
What happened to that boy, I'm still grindin'
Get it, I ain't sayin I'm the coldest and all that
Last nigga was trash and yall was holdin his ball sack
Yhey wanna mumble to em I ain't open to all that
You wanna rumble you can come in closer for combat
I took like 4 years off cause I was done wit rap
Never stopped lovin rap, but there wasnt no funds attached
But every now and then I get the itch
So I put the pen to the paper I give em this

Get the paper, get the money, gotta eat
You can say you a hustler but it's not complete
If you ain't gettin money in ya hands
If you dont got no money in ya hands

Aw man I try to tell em this
You can be dope is you wanna but if you irrelevant
Who cares bout ya whereabouts, beats how you wear em out
Spittin the coldest ever but ya peeps gotta share a couch
That's a nasty livin, life full of bad decisions
I'm tryna add it up, mathematician
And it's a shame how I gotta be plain for niggas now
Too many years i been chillin no way i would figure out
Wit my one track mind and my small way of thinkin
I'd be better off quittin if the registers ain't ringin
I'm sick of the struggle I think I've done it enough
So when it comes to that bag yo I'm runnin it up