Get My Money On! Lyrics & Tabs by Ray Luv
Get My Money On!
guitar chords lyrics
"Here's a little story I got to tell" (Beastie Boys)
Straight from the streets and the alleys of Cali, mo'
Hits and bits from the dephts of the Vallejo
The highs to mids, here's a kid from the Rosetown
Nigga Ray Luv is at this with the dope sound
(Here to tell you a tale about a man and his money)
Young brother straight broke, ain't a damn thing funny
Girlies had stripes, Dickey slacks is how the macks stroll
Gold when he flex, his Rolex when he roll
Oh, damn how I wanted to live large
Private jet lease when Ray Luv is in charge
Hard is how I live my life
Thank God I never smoked the pipe
I need money, streets can't last me
And keep a eye out for brothers tryina blast, G
Thank God I never smoked the pipe
I need money, streets can't last me
And keep a eye out for brothers tryina blast, G
And in the past I never planned on seein the pen
It was a place I knew I never wanted to be in, my friend
I'ma clock, I knew it down deep in my heart
Hoes jock, I'ma do it cuz I'm down from the start
I'm serious 'bout mine, more than just the same ol' song
Cuz I'm in there, and I'm out to get my money on
(Check this out)
1991 - the year Ray changed up
1992 - the year Ray Luv came up
I been around, now I'm headed to the top brand
Knowledge from Jah (right)?
Anyway, back to my temple of my hustle
If you ain't got no clout or grip you ain't got no muscle
I do not be the one, call me Mr. Assed-Out
Niggas planned to do me so I packed em and mashed out
Grandma's tryin to keep me out the streets cuz they after me
But she don't understand where I'm at, see
You know, I pack a pistol when I aim to out-run 'em
And if they pull a hoe move I won't hesitate to gun 'em
God damn, I'm mo' broke than I ever been
Rock bottom through with me cuz it's a place I've never been
My ace boon's locked up in a jail do'
Now my gat's got my back while I get my mail on
Daily I get calls from the P.D.
Around the clock jockin, that Santa Rosa police
Real about my motive, it's the same ol' song
Cuz I'm in there, and I'm out to get my money on
Now in '93, black, a mack upon the scene
They know me in the Bay, now nationwide I'm stackin green
Cash m-o-n-e-y, just wanted to make it
Never really had much but always used to fake it
Hung with the boys slingin d, but no time fo' it
God had graced a plan for me and now in 1992 I know it
Police don't respect me: "Why you gots a pager
Where did you get this money, Mr. Young Black Teenager?"
Got it from your daughter, she came to my concert
Makin my record platinum, wearin a Ray Luv t-shirt
Blame somebody, blame yourself
Cuz you give her the money and she give it to somebody else
Me - now it's in my bank account
So Mr. Five-o, here's somethin to think about
And to you brothers, you used to talk drag when they see me
Now you wanna be me on 'MTV
Raps', the young black mack with the video
Kick it with the boys from the Rose, but you don't hear me though
On? I began to strive
But I learned to be a playa in the 415
I used to dream of C.C.'s and Impalas
Now I want a Benz and ends to spend dollars
Yeah
Cuz I'm out to get my money on
Yo, what's up
This is Ray Luv in the house
Check this out, baby boy
This shout out goes out to all the playas in the whole Bay Area
All the Richmond playas
All the Oakland playas
All the Frisco playas
East Palo Alto playas
All the Santa Rosa playas
All the Moreno City playas
All the Vallejo playas
All the Sacramento playas
And all the playas in the whole world
Yo, check this out, mayn
We need to come up, mayn
Stop chillin each other
All that ol' silly stupid black on black violence junk, mayn
Y'all better get yo money on, mayn!
Come up, mayn, come up!
Yo Khayree, mayn
(What's up?)
They better get they money on!
[Khayree]
That's right, that's right
Check this out
We got Ray Luv in the house
(What's up nigga)
DJ Cee's in the house
(That's right)
We tryina check a grip like this in '92
Cuz brothers wanna get they money on
(Word)
Now check this out
Like to send a shout out to Mac-ass Dre
(Yeah, he gettin his money on)
C-double o-l-i-o Coolio
(Ha-ha, he gets his money on)
Yeah
And last but not least
Much love to all the young black brothers
Tryina come up in 1992 and check a grip
(Nuff respect!)
It ain't about jackin, it's about mackin the system
And gettin what you got comin to you
