[Chorus 2x] 

Money on my mind 

Money on my mind 

Money on my mind 

Money money on my mind 

Money on my mind 

Money on my mind 

Money money on my mind 

So money is all I think of

Steppin out the motherfuckin car they in awe 

I’m lookin like a star bitch when you see me make a wish 

Holla at ya motherfuckin boy J.R. 

Birdman my pa bitch ball bred born rich 

Dear Mr. Toilet I’m the shit 

Got these other haters pissed cause my toilet paper thick 

I know but trip and that forty make a chip 

Out a potato head wimp and like ranch I dip 

And the hustle was all muscle just strength 

When it comes to that weight I don’t struggle I just lift 

I got my hand on the game yeah I make a grip 

Hundred grand in my fist same on my wrist 

Get key money from a quarter blame it on my wrist 

I whip coke like hoes nigga I’m a pimp 

Lil nigga bout to rape the market 

If we talkin bout money baby now we talkin

[Chorus]

[Hook — im Chorus] 

Fuck bitches [3X] 

Get money [3X] 

Get money fuck bitches 

Fuck bitches get money 

Fuck bitches get money 

Yeah 

Nigga get it in a slump if you know how 

In the heart of the summer we need a snow plow 

What you know bout that baby its yo time 

Coke transactions on the phone we call it blowjob 

Too fast for the feds too cocky for the cops 

Had to ditch my old bitch gettin sloppy wit the pots 

Hoppin off the boat meetin papi at the docks 

He tell me I’m gainin weight I tell him I’m gettin paid 

Money over bitches I’m yellin it to the grave 

Developed at a young age go after what pays 

These Gabana sunshades block the sunrays 

I drop a car note in the mall on the first day 

I gotta get it even if its in the worst way 

That cake like it’s it’s my birthday 

New Orleans my birthplace ya heard me 

Where moneys more important than the person 

Nigga

[Chorus]

[Hook — im Chorus] 

Fuck bitches [3X] 

Get money [3X] 

Get money fuck bitches 

Fuck bitches get money 

Fuck bitches get money

Twistin up a blunt thinkin bout my next dollar 

I’m diggin in the game tryna get some money out her 

I’m so vain its a problem 

It ain’t a stain on these Pradas I’m just bein modest 

Got me a goddess sure how to divide it 

She still down and she don’t get none of the profit 

We around the city let the tints hide me 

Thats a cold muhfucker whoever inside it 

Forever symbolizing the grind it don’t walk to you 

I make it run like horses do 

Giddy up baby if you got it then hit ’em up baby 

I know its crazy but I can’t get enough baby 

I love it I fuckin love it 

I’m a self made millionaire fuck the public 

Ridin to myself cause I don’t fuck with nothin 

Pistol on my lap on the way to the money

[Chorus]

[Hook — im Chorus] 

Fuck bitches [3X] 

Get money [3X] 

Get money fuck bitches 

Fuck bitches get money 

Fuck bitches get money

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