| I get money — I get, I get money — I get money, it ain’t nothin to a boss nigga |
| I get money — I, I, I, I get money, I get money it ain’t nothin to a boss |
| I get money — I get, I get money — I get money, it ain’t nothin to a boss nigga |
| I get money — I, I, I, I get money, I get money it ain’t nothin to a boss |
| I get money — I get, I get money — I get money, it ain’t nothin to a boss nigga |
| I get money — I, I, I, I get money, I get money it ain’t nothin to a boss |
| Picture me posted on the corner, my pants saggin below my ass |
| with somethin weighin down my pocket, from people countin my cash |
| I’m a hop inside the drop and let the top down, and squat down |
| then I make 'em pump they brakes like I’m a stop sign |
| told you I rhyme gangsta, I got it locked down — Houston, Texas my home |
| my paint stay wetter then a bitch — on this nice selection of chrome |
| and if I ever choose to roam homey, I’m good where I go better ask yo’favorite ghetto star, how I get down on the low |
| my hustle fuh sho, when I’m gettin this dough |
| you better believe if I talk about it I got it to show |
| my neck and wrist enough to drop a hater jaw to the flo' |
| and don’t worry bout the price it cost bitch I got money to blow |
| It’s nothin to a boss! |
| I make the money but don’t let the money make me but my money make alot of haters hate me |
| 'cause I’m a shine, I ain’t tryna tone shit down |
| I’m a put it in they face and show I’m paid now |
| I’m livin laid now, use to be broke strugglin |
| till I got up off my ass and started straight hustlin |
| got out and got it on my own, wasn’t gave nothin |
| you ain’t heard that lil’young nigga stayed thuggin |
| went from the streets, to the beats now I’m makin hits |
| momma happy cause her son gettin paid legit |
| I been the shit mayne, before the paper came |
| you can take away my money, but can’t take my game |
| I’m the boss nigga, gyeah… |
| Now in the hood I’m gettin paid — slam butterfly do’s |
| gettin money just guarantee me a bunch of fly hoes |
| so I choose to let 'em have it, it’s evident talk is cheap |
| I put about thirty in my mouth so now they feel me when I speak (yeah) |
| I’m Trae Tha Truth you better go ask 'em who the streets |
| and ask 'em who that, in that black on black with ostrich sittin on the seats |
| my money speaks plus I’m surrounded by a couple freaks |
| I’m so much in my zone I ain’t been home in bout a couple weeks |
| they use to tell me I was broke, I told 'em not for long |
| and pulled up on they ass in somethin, that cost bout forty stacks alone |
| see in these streets I’m like the president ridin on chrome |
| saggin my ceasers with my t — shirt on — like I’m a boss |
| (Chorus Till End) |