Get Money, Spend Money, No Money - Ice Cube

Tell me all my children fore I come through is the

hood in the buildin'(yes)

You wont believe what I’m dealing this west coas shit,

oh what a feelin (ahhhh)

Niggaz think I’m drug dealin cus I roled out with no

muthaf**kin' sealing (none)

Is he worth a hundred million no need to ask Ice Cube

how I’m livin (I'm living loc)

I still got the recipe, South Central LA is the pedigree

Don’t try to tell me wuh it better be,

I have your ass up in physical therapy

I outlaw like a Cherokee, the rap industry tried to bury me

But if I die on a mike of a leraby I’m so heavy u bitches couldn’t carry me

(Chorus)

Get money spend money no money,

lookin' like a dummy (I really don’t give a f**k)

Your money aint my f**king money got a pocket full

of money (c'mon homie throw it up)

Get money spend money no money,

lookin' like a dummy (I really don’t give a f**k)

Your money aint my f**king money got a pocket full

of money (c'mon homie throw it up)

(Verse 2)

I don’t accept no disrespect only thing I expect is self check

Just grin and bare it, got an ass whooping that your

ass don’t wanna inherit

Most rappers are parrots, they say what they told to

say to get a neck fool of carrots

Got your momma embarrassed,

how long before they callin' us terrorists nigga-im serious (I)

Keep it gangsta but I keeps a job cus its,

hard to sleep when u steal and rob (and ya)

Got to run cus here comes the blob cus, Uncle Sam is like part of the Mobb

Break your self he’ll take your wealth don’t get it

twisted u a muthaf**kin' elf

And Santa Clause will go for self all u got is your balls and your health

(Chorus)

(Verse 3)

Niggaz brag about what they got,

but we don’t own a skyscraper, now that’s paypa

One generation from slums, happy for these little crumb… you little bums

We saw u pull up but nigga shut up (Shut up),

you always talk about a f**kin' car or truck

You always talkin' bout some f**kin' rims on terrier,

that kinda shit will keep an ass inferior

I’m tryina eat tomorrow, not tryina hear bout the little bitty shit u ball

Saw your little bitty house on cribs,

where u f**k your wife and feed your kids (uhuhh)

Nigga be quiet aint shit private, everything for sail u can buy it

All this self snitchin', all this self tellin' muthaf**kas

going back to the watermelon

(Chorus)x3