T.I.
T.I. - Money Talk lyrics
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(Intro) Hey, you know, a lot of y'all out there man really running y'all mouth Like you just like to hear yourself talk You know what I mean? Talk so much, not knowing if the wagon make the more noise man Haha, get you some money man (Chorus) Lotta ni**a talk, you don't ever get paid F**k ni**a hate, broke bi**hes throw the shade Lotta ni**a talk, you don't ever get paid Still kicking s**t, make a bi**h go crazy Lotta ni**a talk, you don't ever get paid F**k ni**a hate, broke bi**hes throw the shade (Verse 1) Still kick the flake, I'ma swear I'm gon turn up Came with a zip, let the whole thing burn up All I know, get dope, getting paper Taught me that in 85, never learned nothing different All I see is haters in my rear view Millions in my windshield, got a clear view I trained myself, go deaf for a broke ni**a That way when you're talking I don't hear you, listen Still popping, give that s**t to Bobby F**k that s**t you talking, look at you, see you ain't bout it Look at you, see you don't want it Should hardly be an opponent When you sitting next to TIP, it look inferior, don't it? Give a damn if you don't know I've achieved everything you could hope for If being a real ni**a turned into a corporation Look at me, shawty, I should be the logo Please no photos as I stepped in that Magic Got four hoes in the two door Bentley, what's happening? She with the acid, then she come in with me But if not I leave her, she mean nothing to me I pull up, hop out, give the valet my keys I run the city bi**h, I'm parking for free And who the ni**a right here talking to me? There gon be problem if you keep bothering me, man I came in this bi**h to spend 20's and 50 G What you tried to park here? That ain't my Bentley You can't listen to me now, God as my witness Keep on in your earnin's I take your opinion I swear ni**a (Repeat Chorus) (Verse 2) Focused on the money f**k s**t? forget about it I bought a Lamborghini, wrecked it, give a s**t about it Get up out it, call an Uber, go and get a new one I gotta run a bag up, it's extra for the blue one Got 500 bags off in Chattanooga Go and put it up and take a 100 motor gang here Too rude, getting money, ni**a stay real At all costs ni**a, at all costs ni**a Take a hit of this and run your balls off And ni**a you ain't really beefing if you called off Play a bit to the left, call it southpaw F**k around, get your mouth wired, gotta weed y'all Better stand down before I be a man Drown guns up, hands down, that's exactly how I caught y'all Okay one day I retire, put me in the hall of fame But you lames don't forget what I done taught ya'll I put the fear of God in ya Oh you ni**a hard is ya? I can see the broad in ya, put your cut Then you gotta make a move, make a choice Either go out like a bi**h or get your ass kicked God damn that'll be horrible So pipe down ni**a (Repeat Chorus)