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lirik lagu money over bitches – messy marv

[verse 1-san quinn]
i’m sky balla, a young california pimp
lounging in a stretch bentley sitting low in the tints
iced down, draped and dipped hitting bomb weed
serving on steak and shrimp, sipping dom p
lavishly coordinated, savagely corporated
on casino, mr. gambino’s mobb affiliated
the world is mine, that’s what i read on a blimp
playing cops i’m a robber with blue prints to the mint
didn’t leave no evidence, went back to my residence
sn-tched the benjamins and all the other dead presidents
my hoochies like to toss me the coochie
floss me in gucci
but groupies would never cost me no loochie
what i look like?
givin’ a ho all my doe, like she wrote all my flows
b-tch i’m all pro
you be the same ho, on the stroll making me more dinero
so tip-toe through the rain, sleet and snow

[hook]
i gotta get my money over b-tches
they want the money, i want my riches

[verse 2-messy marv]
quinn-o-mania, hoes i’m taming ya
never praising ya, never paying ya
nothing more than attention, having paper is an addiction
you’re not bringin additions, then subtract yourself from my jurisdictions
this is how i see it, my crew we be the cleanest
pushing benzes and beamers
these hoes ain’t pleased to meet us
p-ss us master cards an visas, illegal searches
we smoking roaches with no crutches
b-tches we coach from bein’ broke into a life of hustlin
ain’t no friends we all cousins
baby networkin’
money ain’t nothin’
you got it all? you need to quit perpin’
a quarter million wouldn’t satisfy me
i be a master like p
illy-ack like luni, only god can do me
burn a crutch with doobie, approach smoothly
only ladies with paper amuse me, an broke hoes choose me
but lose being in a pursuit of tryin to talk
for the conversation of f-ck you and sh-t b-tch it’s going to cost

[hook]

[verse 3-san quinn]
i got 2 for 1, from yayo to indo
paper now, hoes later, the tradition in fillmoe
dime-els, bricks of yayo, c0ke dealers, crack sales
n-ggas that tell on big w-ll–s
young k!llas, b-tches that jock, look at ’em stare
got ’em choosing, got hoes drooling on a player
my gold t–th glare, shinning like cheese going “bling”
knock out playa, k-o-p in the street
i f-ck with big timers, ridin’ sideways with young thugs
don’t manipulise, of fillmoe hood nut
shank hood sl-ts, make hood bucks
never could, never would a n-gga hoe trust
money over b-tches
trust a b-tch i never would
ho i’m too major, having paper like tiger woods
famous in the moe
rob from the rich and slang yayo to the poor
flipping, manipulate a dumb ho for way mo’
i tell ’em bia-tch!!
i love balling, how could i be tired of being rich?
been off the hook so long, got disconnected unexpected
and you n-ggas is wrong for paying hoes an ho protecting

[hook]

- messy marv

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