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Money, Cash, Hoes Lyrics - Artist : Jay-Z
Turn the lights all the
Turn the lights all the way down What, uh-huh yeah (Uh) Come on (gr) Come on yeah come on Yo, yo J-A-Y, I flow sick Fuck all y'all haters, blow dick I spits the game for those that throw bricks Money, cash, hoes, money, cash, chicks Sex, murder and mayhem – romance for the street Only wife of mines is a life of crime And since, life's a bitch in mini-skirts and big chests How can I not flirt with death? That's life's enigma, long as life's within us We gon' sin a lot and pray that Christ forgive us Fuck it! Ice the wrist and raise the price on these niggas Y'all can't floss on my level I'll invite you all to get with us if your ball is glitter When I go all the Harlem players wall my picture If you get close enough, you can read the scripture It reads: money, cash, hoes, how real was that nigga? What! Money, cash, hoes, money-cash-hoes (what!) Money, cash, hoes, money-cash-hoes (uh!) Money, cash, hoes, money-cash-hoes (c'mon) Money cash hoes (what!), hoes (what!), hoes (what!) Money, cash, hoes, money-cash-hoes (what!) Money, cash, hoes, money-cash-hoes (uh!) Money, cash, hoes, money-cash-hoes (c'mon) Money cash hoes (what!), hoes (what!), hoes (what!) Flavors robust, platinum and gold touch Yeah I rap now, fast money done slowed up Niggas try to stop Jay-Z to no luck Roc-A-Fella forever, CEO, what! (what?) Us the villains? Fuck your feelings While y'all player hate we in the upper millions What's the dealings (huh)? It's like New York's been soft Ever since Snoop came through and crushed the buildings I'm trying to restore the feelings; fuck the law, keep dealing More money, more cash, more chilling I know they're gon' criticize the hook on this song Like I give a fuck. I'm just a crook on this song Bed-Stuy Brook-Nam took on the world Shit, I led a life you can write a book on Sex, murder and mayhem, romance for the street Man, and I tell ya, it'll be the best-seller, what! Money, cash, hoes, money-cash-hoes (what!) Money, cash, hoes, money-cash-hoes (uh!) Money, cash, hoes, money-cash-hoes (c'mon) Money cash hoes (what!), hoes (what!), hoes (what!) Money, cash, hoes, money-cash-hoes (what!) Money, cash, hoes, money-cash-hoes (uh!) Money, cash, hoes, money-cash-hoes (c'mon) Money cash hoes (what!), hoes (what!), hoes (what!) D-M-X and my dogs bite Jigga, my nigga, rhyme all night Thugs for life, one night with this rap shit Let 'em go and I bet they know what'll happen When we clap shit Acting like we owe 'em something Then we show 'em something Talking greasy, I think they found 'em down the road or something (Wooh) Fucking with a mad man in a bad mood Is like fucking with a mad dog that wasn't fed food And the only thing that's stopping him is you (what!) So the only thing that he'll be dropping is you (what!) Chopping in two (come on!) Then he drop it to Clue, and the response from the street: This is one dog that loves raw meat (woo!) But getting back to, just 'cause I, love my niggas I shed blood, for my niggas Let a nigga holler "Where my niggas?" All I'ma hear is "Right here my nigga!" Money, cash, hoes, money-cash-hoes (what!) Money, cash, hoes, money-cash-hoes (uh!) Money, cash, hoes, money-cash-hoes (c'mon) Money cash hoes (what!), hoes (what!), hoes (what!) Money, cash, hoes, money-cash-hoes (what!) Money, cash, hoes, money-cash-hoes (uh!) Money, cash, hoes, money-cash-hoes (c'mon) Money cash hoes (what!), hoes (what!), hoes (what!) Roc-A-Fella shit Uh huh uh huh, Ruff Ryders Pa-pause My nigga Swizz Uh huh, uh huh Don't stop, bitch Uh, uh huh, yeah Respect the game yo OK OK OK, so now the guy's working for Jay-Z Making hot songs But any type of trouble he gets in, he runs to Jay-Z Trouble with the label, he calls Jay-Z But he still has to come up with Jay-Z's money every week no matter what Not selling any records, fuck you pay me Oh you want me in your video, fuck you pay me No one's coming to your shows huh, fuck you pay me And then what do you do when you can't borrow another dollar from the label? You can't sell any singles in the stores? You light a match you blow the joint |
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