STYLIZTIK - Mo' Money lyrics

rate me

(feat. Dirty Rat)

Yeah, Classics... it's true LA

Back as a little lad, tears on my pillow,had me

Workin' the block, hard as a brillo pair,he

Searchin' the block high off a nickel-bag

I searched my room, found my chrome mini-mag

Now we own one and won't give my pistol back

Guess he didn't figure, I want the hate 'zine

Mama said I'm 18, so I gotta shake scene

So I move on my daydreams

Like the A-Team

[Chorus]

Mo money, mo money, mo

Mo burden, Mo burden, mo

Not funny, not funny, no

Gotta have heat, this world is so cold

[chorus]

I'm the young Mr. T, with THC

All through my respiratory, that's mandatory

Self-explanatory

The black MacGyver

Wolfpack Messiah

The Rappin' sire, spit

Rapid fire, that's a strap

No heat in these streets

That's a wrap

With no rap for us, you can trust

It's a home robbery, and we wrap you up. yep

All my homies kept guns, so I kept one

The hood had love for me, like I was a stepson

Even when I'm spaced out, high as the jetsons

Not Elroy, do not tell boy

But you do not know

Cause you do not help the boy

Heat smelt the boy

Boy will grow, jails will blow

Half your brains out so to hell you go. Yep

[Chorus x2]

No jewels on my neck, but my minds an emerald

Police shine lights tryin to find new criminals

I don't speak to y'all, but I rhyme subliminal

With y'all street soldiers, and I'm the general

My physical is pitiful, pistols make you invisible

My livings ain't livable, I slang from my living room

And I know that my livers doomed

We all in the killer mood, life wasn't silver spoons

No Ricky Schroeder, just Dickie Dozier, Pac

And we thug unorthodox

I wanna change, but its hard to abort the block

They trained a young champ in his sport to box

Dead bodies, rigor mortis, the corpse of rot

Don't report to the cops from the porch when it's hot

Tryin' to watch everything, like reporters watch

I'ma rap til this hot damn recording stop

[Chorus x2]