Ghostface Killah - Get The Money lyrics

rate me

Ft. Vince Staples & Adrian Younge

(Hook x2)

Get the money, we out here to pillage and loot

Crack safes, watch DeLucas' blood getting spilled

Ya can't take ova the truth behind the story

Let Ghost legend live on in all it's glory

(Verse: Ghostface Killah)

Yo, yo! Get the money, they keep it tucked away in a safe

In the back room bottom wine bottle wit grapes

Hit 'em where it hurts, they can't find shit cause they broke

Snatch chains, wallets, bitches front row

Tear the clubs up, all social events

If a nigga act tense put a hole in his fence

This ain't fo' fun but it's fun tho'

I got to run tho', money ain't shit watch me burn a few hunndo

Tear the DeLucas down like the legend of Tone Starks

Tie bricks around his ankles, have him swimming wit sharks

Dynamite they safe, looking fo' heirlooms

It's personal, I want the keys to the tombs

Kids college funds, crack they foundation

Connects to the banks and the police station

I want those faces rolled, truth behind the legend

Did it really go down, or it's just my obsession?

(Hook x2)

(Verse 2: Vince Staples)

Day dream of a rugga to the Lucas 'til the city is ours

Money, power, and the powder I would murder with y'all

In the name of King Kane 'New York, New York!'

The city of dreams, stained sidewalks, and Mac 10s, flex my fifth

Search 'til it hurt, records from the retched abyss

Murdered them, they scurred, reck him 'til he recking his shit

If he alluding his life worth losing

Kane said a record earned is a pot of gold

Prize a loan, put a marble floor in my mama home

Neva need a loan, put the rest in the bank

We a army, only thing we missing a tank

Couldn't harm me, keeper is my brotha fo' the record

I be crazy motherfucker, blood stains on my knuckles

I'm a slugger, fist kill his brain

Load up a weapon in the name of King Lester Kane

(Hook x2)

(Verse 3: Ghostface Killah)

Hey yo we crushed 'em, last spot left on the list

Crack the safe and peeled out twelve sealed discs

Looking Illmatic, wrapped up in a robe

They were records, each one marked wit a code

It said 'Do Not Play' in big bold letters

The DeLucas pressed, stamped, engraved Vendetta

I think we hit it, reservation of Ghostface

Shoulda known they had that shit hidden at Tone's place

Hit Logan sip chilled Don Maretta

Big glasses of wine bringing sharp chedda

Get the vinyl to headquarters, asap codes

And tell Lester we hit the motha of all loads

Paging 9-11, meet back to the burghs

They gon' want revenge on the squad and all that shit

We crippled 'em, but they go deeper then white meat

We got blood on our hands and war in the streets

(Hook x2)