Lyrics Big K.R.I.T. – Money On The Floor
Text:
Big K.R.I.T.
Is it me or is it something bout a car
that makes a bad bitch get freaky and fuck like porno stars?
Or maybe it was that chrome that keep a bopper in the zone
and then that just keep happening, blame it on all this rapping shit
Ten out of ten, she down to fuck, that’s just what my average is
Slab and chassis lavishly, with cabin digi-dash in it, I’m an advocate
Chromed-out wheels, if you hop in here you might jet lag a bit
I’m passionate bout everything that I want, I do what it do and y’all don’t
I put the whole world in my trunk, let it bump
Check the stars out when I ride, dodging potholes with these tires
Hopping lanes, swang and bang in a ‘Stang, so let me by
cause I got
Chorus 2X: screwed vocals
Money-money on the floor, lighters-lighters on the dresser
Drop-drop my top, no one can do it better
Diamonds-diamonds in the leather, wood-wood in the chrome
Bopping-bopping ass hoes just won’t leave me alone
8Ball
Look, she call me Big Baby, I got my Guccis on
Black on black, head to toe, smelling like Prada cologne
Feeling like big pimping, inhale, exhale
Good green, thick lean, give them bitches X pills
Cocaine make ’em get so loose on them tequila shots
Every time I do it I regret it, the bitch just can’t stop
Now she’s dancing on the table, skirt done went up to her navel
Niggas throwing money at her, shit, I can’t be mad at her
MJG
Bring the girl to me then I’ma bless her, yessir
My bitch on the block with some money on her mind
A pistol in her purse and a heart full of grind
I’m Pimp Tight MJ’! Drop my top, light that ‘dro
Hand on the wood with the pedal on the flo’
Forever getting dough and I’m clever on a hoe
I’m still getting Feddi mayne, never be a scary mayne
My DNA is all Ike Turner, Eddie King
Chorus 2X
2 Chainz
2 Chainz! Twenty-five lighters (lighters), twenty-five ciphers
Went to jail and shared a cell with a twenty-five to lifer (damn)
Stayed at my grandma house with twenty-five Bibles (true)
Stayed in the trap house with like twenty-five rifles (blahh!)
Drop my top and I dip, dip, dip
But if I pop my trunk you better duck, don’t slip
Chrome lips on the vehicle look like they blowing kisses
Re-reel them hoes in, it look like I’m going fishing
Okay this how I ride, two bad hoes inside
One hoe say she ready, the other hoe say she tired
I’ma drop this other hoe off, me and the other hoe, we gon’ ride
All jokes aside, I’m the get money poster child
Chorus 2X
Album
Big K.R.I.T. – Big K.R.I.T. - Live From The Underground
