Lyrics:

[Intro - Birdman]
This here for the money homeboy
Money money money train nigga
It’s like we evolve till we fall, and we done fall till we evolve
And then we back and bounce back bitch
YEA
It’s real simple nigga
It’s just seein to be whats in you nigga
If you a hustla, you gonna get dough
And that’s how it goes

[Hook - Birdman]
Them niggas talking bout it but they know we gangstas
Tommy guns, army guns quick to bang ya
Pull up at the club brand new fresh painted
Them hoes wanna ride hood rich n famous [x2]

[Verse 1 - All Star]
I gotta get this money, I gotta I just gotta
Not a little a lotta from rap, a rough rida
(Harlem)
I’m prolly out in the east getting it in on the loc since I’m a stunna I get em from ten
(yeaaa)
I just bought some new guns and got rid of some friends (fuck em)
I’m about my business I git it from Slim
I grind hard (grind haaard) ya cashville I’m gon swagga
Pimpin on the car Im gon mask up or bang up
Hustla, gangsta, old school Chevrolet
Custom painted (skerr) they love me in the hood
So I’m like fuck bein famous
You don’t wana live my life
Trust me I’m dangerous, I must keep a banga
(Yeeaaa)What can I say but when its on, its on
If we don’ call it off until everybody’s gone
Allstar homey, keep a hell of a price
Cash money still a army and I earn my stripes

[Hook]

[Verse 2 - Yo Gotti]
I’m a gangsta millionaire since
You could put me on the scale and weigh everythin
I’m 36 old fishscale still stand
Then eat the nigga
And Im gonna ride fo my people nigga
I’m in the hood where the dudes be
Whoever assumed that me a b runnin around with c and b
I gotta a army and I’m the general nigga
Money plentiful nigga, then why your old lady into the nigga
I’ma button down bricks and voices off in my head
Like murder bout the spirits and watchin out fo the feds
Fo real I got Mexican friends, I ain’t gon’ lie about it
And I took a few losses I ain't gon’ cry about it
But I’ll front you a brick if you down and tapped out
A nigga shot your homie in the head, you just getting high about it
Yo gotti straight up I’m a snitch killa
Don’t even speak to me Garth, you ain’t a real nigga

[Hook]

[Verse 3 - Birdman]
Now I’m riding through my town got the key to my city
All the tin mo things brand new in the minute
Every nigga in this mothafucka no me dog
Livin legend, ridin fly, nigga ball n fall
Methomine project where I started the struggle
Gladis run around sams in the circle we hustle
K.C gave me the game, I took it n tuck it
Nigga brought it to another level cookin n cutting
From the half 17’s, nigga 50 n hundreds
I done made the lamborghinis, rolls royces on buttons
And I done did my time, I wouldn’t git it, wouldn’t git it
And got it on my mind cuz it’s money over bitches
All the time I’m bout mine, nigga workin from digits
Green bags full of cash nigga how we feel it
Stunna island poppin bottles nigga fuckin them bitches
Got the money and fame and them and them come on wit it, mo hundred

[Hook x2]