[Intro: Livin' tha Life (2003)]
Bitch, I want my mother fuckin' money back
You only gave me five dollars!
I gave you twenty mother fuckin' dollars!
No, you didn't! You only gave me five dollars!
No, I gave you twenty and I ain't gon' sit here and argue with your flat-ass face, home girl
This is America!
You know, that's the thing about you mother fuckers
Go home!
I ain't goin' no where 'til I get my mother fuckin' change
I will blow this mother fucker up if I don't get my mother fuckin' change
*Speaking Japanese*
*Mocking Japanese*
I want my mother fuckin' change!
[Verse 1: The Game & (Dr. Dre)]
What happened in hip-hop that got Pac and Big shot?
The thicks blocks, now every rapper claim he let his clip pop
But even myself tote a gun, and know to run than get shot
I've been there before now I'm fuckin' with Doc
(Gotta do them Calvin Broadus numbers)
If not, I pitch rocks, anticipatin' my incarceration
Media think I'm fakin' like Mason, but when it comes to mace
Fuck R. Kelly, I don't take it in the face
I find out who sprayed it, and I'm puttin' you under the pavement
No Buddhist priest, Catholic, or Baptist pastor can save him
I'm far from religious, but I got beliefs
So I put canary yellow diamonds in my Jesus piece
I came back from the dead without a part of my chest
Laid in a hospital bed on cardiac arrest
I waited for 3 years while everybody else dropped
Now I understand why Nas did a song with his pops
Bitch, I want my mother fuckin' money back
You only gave me five dollars!
I gave you twenty mother fuckin' dollars!
No, you didn't! You only gave me five dollars!
No, I gave you twenty and I ain't gon' sit here and argue with your flat-ass face, home girl
This is America!
You know, that's the thing about you mother fuckers
Go home!
I ain't goin' no where 'til I get my mother fuckin' change
I will blow this mother fucker up if I don't get my mother fuckin' change
*Speaking Japanese*
*Mocking Japanese*
I want my mother fuckin' change!
[Verse 1: The Game & (Dr. Dre)]
What happened in hip-hop that got Pac and Big shot?
The thicks blocks, now every rapper claim he let his clip pop
But even myself tote a gun, and know to run than get shot
I've been there before now I'm fuckin' with Doc
(Gotta do them Calvin Broadus numbers)
If not, I pitch rocks, anticipatin' my incarceration
Media think I'm fakin' like Mason, but when it comes to mace
Fuck R. Kelly, I don't take it in the face
I find out who sprayed it, and I'm puttin' you under the pavement
No Buddhist priest, Catholic, or Baptist pastor can save him
I'm far from religious, but I got beliefs
So I put canary yellow diamonds in my Jesus piece
I came back from the dead without a part of my chest
Laid in a hospital bed on cardiac arrest
I waited for 3 years while everybody else dropped
Now I understand why Nas did a song with his pops
Comments (0)
The minimum comment length is 50 characters.
Information
Users of Guests are not allowed to comment this publication.
There are no comments yet. You can be the first!