Whohot - Drug Money Lyrics

It ain't no money like drug money
That brown paper that blood money
I do this for my ghetto girls and my hood niggas that got love for me
And this one's for my haters too shit if I wasn't me I'd hate me too
Cause I be burning red and I be flaming blue
I said it ain't no money like drug money
That brown paper that blood money
I do this for my ghetto girls and my hood niggas that got love for me
And this one's for my haters too shit if I wasn't me I'd hate me too
Cause I be burning red and flaming blue

I throw sacks like a quarterback
I sling crack where the corner at
U niggas wanna search where ya warrant at
Y'all niggas tote gats we up on that scared niggas fall back get mines in four stacks
Look I'm the man of the hour I got so much money on my brain that I feel like a scholar
MCs I devour I set them all in a jar watch they flow get sour
He didn't tell u I was all about the dolla I'm so hood go hard like rockwilder
Pay attention girl let me tell u what I'm about I'm about getting sucked
Til ya mouth get a drought bouncing from the crib to the club to ya house
If that thing tight I might go down south
I ain't the type of nigga to fall in love on the couch
So soon as I bust a nut I'm headed back to the block

Cause it ain't no money like drug money
That brown paper that blood money
I do this for my ghetto girls and my hood niggas that got love for me
And this one's for my haters too shit if I wasn't me I'd hate me too
Cause I be burning red and I be flaming blue
I said it ain't no money like drug money
That brown paper that blood money
I do this for my ghetto girls and my hood niggas that got love for me
And this one's for my haters too shit if I wasn't me I'd hate me too
Cause I be burning red and flaming blue

Now when it comes to my money I stacked it like crates
So when the work out u know
I'm talking about weight
Twenty's on the benches
Fifties on the plates my bitch bring it in with it strapped to her waist
Look you better calm down before the straps in ya face
I can see you on the phone now talking to the Jakes
That lil duce duce ain't got nothing on the eighth young rich
Porter keep nothing in the safe
Them boys in the hood go hard with the K sawed off or the Trey will blow yo ass out the way
Look it nothing to kill a man u hear what I sat
I got murder on my mind I think about it everyday
Niggas talking slick better ho the other way
Betta check ya self boy you know we don't play
Grind all night and we scramble all day
Til my day I'm going hard f*ck what niggas got to say