"Money" as written by Lolene Everett, Bradley Spalter, Jason Davies and Phill Scott....
Cydal!
One Step Beyond.
Cydal!
One Step Beyond.
Cydal!

[Chorus]
Money!
(Money found, but broke right now, this Cydal, Mobb.)
Is my everything!
(Money found, but broke right now, this Cydal, Mobb.)
Money!
Ohhoohhh.
(Money found, but broke right now, this Cydal Mobb.)
Is my everything!

Time is simply passin
Got me diggin dead Presidents up
Livin corrupted
So fuck it, there's forfittin'
Juss more grippin', how to trap it
No cops attracted
Never fuckin' wit telecommunications
So they can't tap it
No fingerprints
No ballistics juss tryin' to trace on
Game laced on drug free zones
Thugs be on
Some hot power
Rifle tower to rip yo head off
For bread or soak in a puddle of brokeness and stress.

Now.
Who want to test the "Champion" like Buju Banton?
Plan to leave very few standin when you hand that cannon to me
Been in Dangerous Music like Bohannan
What you mean souljah?!
Ya betta off drinkin' King Cobra
Went to clean over there on 8-8
Fo tryin' ta playa hate
The straight laced Triple Gold
Break, break gripple holds
I told
That bitch like Joe
Ya bitch
Lil bitch
Lil, lil bitch
Lil bitch!!


I need to stop fuckin' bitches for points
Drinkin' loochie
Coochie juss ain't my thang now
Hoes in all fifty states got AIDS now
I ain't fuckin' wit nothin' that's gon' show stop
Money is the root to all evil so I need that to begin
Spend money on hoochies?
Yeah right mutha fucka!
Splittin pussies for free
Bitch, juss to say I'm me
Be the one stackin'
I'm backpackin' it to school
What you thought?
That I would play the fool?
Bitch I need money!

[Chorus]

Been in an out of traffic
Hella long since I seen a mattress
Knots don't stop on the turf
Wearin' some five's, Nike's and a T-Shirt
Little G
Became to be a shark (What?!)
Won't let you fuck wit me
Specialize into that greenery
Meanin' to do
Whatever the fuck I want to do
Even if it means settin' up shop by a pre-school
(Progress)
Have them bustas waitin' to plot an plan
(Money)
Hangin out the window, bustin pumps wit Tech's.

Raised how it sounds
For every portion
Every fortune
Believe a nigga needed some thousands
Proceed
Juss smokin' weed an pullin' G's runnin' from housin'
You thought of consequences
When the coppas visit
Got me hoppin' fences
Droppin' rocks, but I'm survivin' from these snitches
And ain't no coppin' knots, juss coppin' Yola
Youngsta caught up in that street life
Seven hundred block of soldiers
But I'm surrounded in this world
Where I'm loved by many
And hated by few
Respected by ya'll
An those that don't they can fall.

[Chorus:Repeat x2]

Money.
One Step Beyond.


Lyrics submitted by SongMeanings

"Money" as written by Daniel James Debourg Colin Emmanuel

Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., Universal Music Publishing Group

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Money song meanings
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