Lyrics Big K.R.I.T. – Get Money

Get money, get money, get money
I told ’em: get money, get money, get money
I got ’em: get money, get money, get money
I’m goin’: get money, get money, get money

Get money my A, pop rubberbands
Fuck what you think, I’m still the man
Young Krizzle top dropped, I’m headin’ to the top spot
I’m swervin’ in a boss car, I party like a rock star
Rollin’ on these sucker motherfuckers that were down on me
My bread got bigger, young nigga you should crown me
I just touched down in the city of the Queen
I ride around town, and I’m feelin’ like a king
I’m higher than you ever been, I’m higher than you ever be
G4, first class, some shit that you could never see
Sippin’
?
and bread, as country as I wanna be
All this money that I gettin’, you’d think the feds was onto me
Eyes low, ride slow, 2 miles per hour ho
If money ain’t your motivation, what the fuck you cryin’ for
Takin’ pictures of me now, but it’s all good
All my real niggas in the hood
I tell ’em

Get money, get money, get money
I told ’em: get money, get money, get money
I got ’em: get money, get money, get money

I belong in the sky with the stars and the moon
I was told to get money way before I left the womb
If I can pitch it to ya, better believe I’m a goon
I’mma be a millionaire way before I’m in a tomb
I made a couple power plays, dropped a couple bombs
Now my screens hang down, ceiling like Saddam
My life just like a movie, and this would be the scene
When my father held me up and said my son gonna be a king
I’m woodgrain drippin’, my paint still flippin’
My top got lost, but nah it ain’t missin’
He ain’t never seen it done like this
The grill, the chain, the charm, the wrists
The car, the clothes, the hoes, the whips
The black 24’s with the chromed out lids
They hatin’ on me baby, but yea it’s all good
Tell all them trap stars that still in the hood
I tell ’em

Get money, get money, get money
I told ’em: get money, get money, get money
I got ’em: get money, get money, get money
I’m goin’: get money, get money, get money
Hey, I’m ridin’ through my city with my rims sittin’ high
And my top dropped feelin’ like a king
Hey, I’m ridin’ through my city with my rims sittin’ high
And my top dropped feelin’ like a king

Hey, I got money in the
?, monkeys on my ass
I see the laws, hit the turnin’ lane and mash on the gas
I swang and I swerve, I do it like none other mayne
My leather so-so, I call my top that butter mayne
I’m slabbed out down 85, woodgrain grippin’ get her to the tele
Then I get up in it
Certified with this pimpin’
Official with my mouthpiece
Make it where these niggas in the hood can’t doubt me

Get money, get money, get money
I told ’em: get money, get money, get money
I got ’em: get money, get money, get money
I’m goin’: get money, get money, get money
Hey, I’m ridin’ through my city with my rims sittin’ high
And my top dropped feelin’ like a king
Hey, I’m ridin’ through my city with my rims sittin’ high
And my top dropped feelin’ like a king