Lyrics Rick Ross – Money Maker
Text:
Hook:
It don’t make sense, if it don’t make that money
It don’t it don’t make sense if it don’t make that money
I’mma take that money, i’mma take that
I’mma imma
x2
Fuck a judge prosecutor
Fuck a judge prosecutor
Fuck a judge
Fuck a judge fuck a judge prosecutor and the district attorney
Where I’m for ah couple kilos ere thing gettin murder
Its survival of fittest all these young niggas killing
Slidin ina new chargers
When they pull up they hittin
I got kilo
God gave ya life but we can repo
Slidin day and night with my people
Red lazer on my tazer and the home invasion
It ain’t no mother fuckin grazin
Head shot head shots
Seen them 26’s so she gave me headshots
It ain’t about money
It ain’t about shit
Momma made that money nigga cause it only make sense
Hook
Where that blue gotti driver?
Where that big booty diver?
Where that rocky roller rocka?
Where that new body slider?
Show me yo re up nigga
Twice ah week I’m at the jeweler tryna re up nigga
Got my money up, I got my fitted low
You got the 45 that’s at 1054
I’m in the 57 sittin on 26’s
You need ah 36 just hit ah nigga
Digits I gotta 7 tray
Got over 80
In it it got a cooling system
You’ll think mercedes did it so where yo new body benz?
Show me yo re up nigga def jam 5 mil
And time to re up niggaaha
Hook
