[Chorus]

You see me on them 24s fuckin tatted up

These suckas hate my guts cause i whip that batter up

Im gettin money boy 

Im gettin money boy

Im gettin money boy

Im gettin money boy

I keep a K or a sawed off in my hand

I keep my stacks wrapped up in them rubber bands

Im gettin money boy 

Im gettin money boy

Im gettin money boy

Im gettin money boy



They hate my guts hate your guts why?

I be gettin it big

Gotta do it fantastic with fabulous lavoushness

Livin all around me 

Eyes are kinda cloudy

600 dollas an O Z

The best trees in cali

Money in my pocket bitch

Wrapped in rubber bands n shit

Call me if ya got a problem get me we can plan some shit

Grab the black mask n shit

Blacked up 4 bags n shit

Cock the 4 5 up towards the sky and lets go mash a trick

Or we can do it old fassion and classic and rent out a club

Bring Wyte and the six for the muthafucka and let us tear it up

Either way we gon get the cheese by doin what we know

Four five to yo eye or a crowded rowdy show



[Chorus]



I get money like bill collecters

I shine like wheel reflectors

You can talk all the trash you want ive been sprayed with hater protector

I been bakin in there for breakfast with steak as the appetizer

And Three Six Mafia just happens to be my financial advisor

I whip black and lay back pop Os and Rolls Royces

I done been up in a movie bitch sequel to choices

I get calls from other movie producers wanna use my music

And you better believe if i let em i get paid for doin it

I be tokin on some killa kill

True and real togethers trill

Considerin im the token whitey will i kill it? yes i will

Lil Wytes the name ya bitch

Put that in yo manuscript

Makin cheese and clockin grip

Im talkin thats as real as it gets



[Chorus]