LYRICS
Use A− / A+ to adjust text sizeMoney On My Mind
Yeah[Chorus 2X with variations]Money on my mindMoney on my mindMoney on my mindMoney money on my mindMoney on my mindMoney on my mindMoney money on my mindSo money is all I think ofSteppin out the motherfuckin car they in aweI'm lookin like a star bitch when you see me make a wishHolla at ya motherfuckin boy J.R.Birdman my pa bitch ball bred born richDear Mr. Toilet I'm the shitGot these other haters pissed cause my toilet paper thickI know but trip and that forty make a chipOut a potato head wimp and like ranch I dipAnd the hustle was all muscle just strengthWhen it comes to that weight I don't struggle I just liftI got my hand on the game yeah I make a gripHundred grand in my fist same on my wristGet key money from a quarter blame it on my wristI whip coke like hoes nigga I'm a pimpLil nigga bout to rape the marketIf we talkin bout money baby now we talkin[Chorus][Hook: during chorus]Fuck bitches [3X]Get money [3X]Get money fuck bitchesFuck bitches get moneyFuck bitches get moneyYeahNigga get it in a slump if you know howIn the heart of the summer we need a snow plowWhat you know bout that baby its yo timeCoke transactions on the phone we call it blowjobToo fast for the feds too cocky for the copsHad to ditch my old bitch gettin sloppy wit the potsHoppin off the boat meetin papi at the docksHe tell me I'm gainin weight I tell him I'm gettin paidMoney over bitches I'm yellin it to the graveDeveloped at a young age go after what paysThese Gabana sunshades block the sunraysI drop a car note in the mall on the first dayI gotta get it even if its in the worst wayThat cake like it's it's my birthdayNew Orleans my birthplace ya heard meWhere moneys more important than the personNigga[Chorus + Hook during chorus]Twistin up a blunt thinkin bout my next dollarI'm diggin in the game tryna get some money out herI'm so vain its a problemIt ain't a stain on these Pradas I'm just bein modestGot me a goddess sure how to divide itShe still down and she don't get none of the profitWe around the city let the tints hide meThats a cold muhfucker whoever inside itForever symbolizing the grind it don't walk to youI make it run like horses doGiddy up baby if you got it then hit 'em up babyI know its crazy but I can't get enough babyI love it I fuckin love itI'm a self made millionaire fuck the publicRidin to myself cause I don't fuck with nothinPistol on my lap on the way to the money[Chorus + Hook during chorus]
LETROU FEATURE
Stage Mode
Large text, automatic scrolling and fullscreen for singing or practice.
FIND ANOTHER SONG
Find a song
Search by title or artist.
SINGER CENTER
Open tools →Train your voice
Breathing, warm-ups, pitch and vocal range.