Imma Get Me Sum

Lyrics

[Chorus: Project Pat] Money, this that shit these robbers out here blast for Money, this that shit these bitches clapping ass for Money, this that shit a nigga living fast for I'ma get me some, I'ma get me some Money, this that shit these robbers out here blast for Money, this that shit these bitches clapping ass for Money, this that shit a nigga living fast for I'ma get me some, I'ma get me some [Verse 1: Project Pat] Only thing I know is get money, I got to have that Quick to put that chopper in your life, bitch, where that bread at? I don't want to rob, but I promise you that I will though I'ma do whatever I got to to pay these bills, ho These niggas say I'm rapping, but I could be trapping A round of applause the way these nines get to clapping A lot of y'all broads pillow talking with these bros And telling all your business, pussy nigga, naw I never tell my business to a ratchet ho Oh nut gobbling slutty bitch, all she want is blow And money's everything, got my ride sitting clean Boy, if you ain't seen a half a million you ain't seen shit [Chorus: Project Pat] Money, this that shit these robbers out here blast for Money, this that shit these bitches clapping ass for Money, this that shit a nigga living fast for I'ma get me some, I'ma get me some Money, this that shit these robbers out here blast for Money, this that shit these bitches clapping ass for Money, this that shit a nigga living fast for I'ma get me some, I'ma get me some [Verse 2: Rick Ross] Baking soda my trick, making noise on my strip Fuck her while she snorts salt, my dick hard as a brick I'm the man moving that boy, Camero my new toy Exclusive clientele, so hard Dan Aykroyd I rubber band my check, Susan Summers all on my neck Chevy running like a Corvette, still war ready on deck And money bag on your head, they coming straight for your neck Niggas stepping over your kids and running up in your nest Louis shoes are all checkered, dollar bills are my chess Bare [?] on my neck, smooth [?] [Chorus: Project Pat] Money, this that shit these robbers out here blast for Money, this that shit these bitches clapping ass for Money, this that shit a nigga living fast for I'ma get me some, I'ma get me some Money, this that shit these robbers out here blast for Money, this that shit these bitches clapping ass for Money, this that shit a nigga living fast for I'ma get me some, I'ma get me some [Verse 3: Juicy J] WHO, walk in the bank!? WHO, open the safe!? WHO, I don't have account WHO, my shit in the safe!? Passcode, bombproof Ebola-proof, New York Times want a photo shoot? Double XL want to write reviews? Sixty minutes, with Barbara Walters, fuck would I do? I did it I had to get it, you won't see my goons, got a thousand midgets With text on 'em, I send a text to 'em, to hide in your crib and send a text back They put rattle snakes in your baby's crib, Bushwick Bill, the ugliest niggas That kill, I'm laughing, I'm counting my money with cheers, BURRRRR, you niggas is her's - Bitch made, C section with a switch blade, stupid I go buy Rav', you talking sideways? I'm parking that bitch, in your baby driveway How do I do it, that's how I stunt on a hater, fuck would I do else? Fuck what I knew, fuck what I do, if I ain't doing Juicy J to the fullest? That Juicy J carrying metric tons, since I was thirteen, watching Pat in the coke game 'Til I grew up shouting Three-Six (MAFIA!), fifty-million dollars in the basement (MAFIA!) I buy your connect on an iMessage, bitch don't flood my emails Juicy J, I never fly alone, my weed got frequent, flier mileage (Money!)