Tuesday, December 2, 2014

Rick Ross - All About The Money (Remix) Lyrics

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All About The Money (Remix) Lyrics by Rick Ross

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(Verse)
Menace to society, cocaine brothers
My dog made three Feds magazine covers
Get shot for the beat, wash up on the beach
Butt naked full of hoes, Timbs on your feet
Ya stressed on the block, cover with the top
Backwards, stay strapped, smokin' in the dark
Sickin' bitch, ya fuckin' ?, how ya writing books?
I'm from the city testify and get yo body took
? rap, tell me cuz I got all the cheese
They had him in his ? now it's time to squeeze
50 stacks of carbon, boy, now pay the penalty
I'll call yo kids, I swear to God, you'll gon' remember me
Word to Piefull, it's time to see my nigga D
In a two seater, in Atlanta, pickin' up me
Ferrari or the Lambo, cuz I got em both
Begin took a chain, next ya know I got em smoked
Neva rob, baby, I'm so foreva mob
I'm out in Vegas at the ponds, playing peddle bomb
Push a button I can turn a bitch to battler raw
Kill yoself and then how ya rat on all ya dawgs?
Play my position, here I am so now it's time to ball
Troy Ave, now it's time to ball

(Hook)
It’s all about the all about the money
It’s all about the all about the money
It’s all about the all about the money
It’s all about the all about the money

(Verse 2: Troy Ave)
I’ll be in the hood trap regular toilet paper in my porch cause I’m shitting
Ninety four & fillmore in the kitchen
Cooking birds nigga saying thanks for giving
Arnold Schwarzengger arm from the whippin'
Arnold Schwarzengger arm from the wipping'
One reply to ya niggas sneak dissin
Suck a dick when you see me, know I’m grippin'
You never seen nothing like this splash brothers with the aim, I wish a nigga would boy
A nigga sleepin with ur misses nigga call me young melo cause scoring its my shit boy
I’m CP3 cause I be dishing and handleling the rock chef cooking with the pot boy

(Hook)
It’s all about the all about the money
It’s all about the all about the money
It’s all about the all about the money
It’s all about the all about the money

(Verse 3: Troy Ave)
No limit to my money I should get a tank
They walk me to the back entering the bank Base running errands, so im givin hanks
That’s a hit, had him hit leave da nigga plank
He got six feet, I got six figures
Nothing less is six shots coming up the hipper
Life a trip, life a gamble I'ma big chipper Thousand dollar hand wrist glitter bitch nigga
You never seen nothing like this splash brothers with the aim, I wish a nigga would boy
A nigga sleepin with ur misses nigga call me young melo cause scoring its my shit boy
I’m CP3 cause I be dishing and handling the rock chef cooking with the pot boy

(Hook)
It’s all about the all about the money
It’s all about the all about the money
It’s all about the all about the money
It’s all about the all about the money

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