Slow Pain, A.L.T. - All About Cash Money текст песни

I’m rolling in an 8−3, Rig is splitting up flakes
Hitting 12 switches, pumping my brakes
Grease khaki down for loads in the beanie
Joker is in blazer base bumping in Hoodini
Gangsta, gangsta, it’s the gangtser show
He’s the funkiest gangster, they call him Slow
Slanging that sack, making money paid
7−6 glasshouse and we headed upstate
S to the G-V, foos used to see me Rapping in the backyard, now I’m on TV
It’s about time that a Mexican got props
Speed deep paint, gonna make no stops
I’m a keep riding, gliding, pin
Hitting up Ruthless, check out my grin
Put us in the tape deck, that’s the shit
One by one, I’ll be making that hit
One by one, I’m
All about making that cash money
One by one, I’m
All about making that cash money
One by one, I’m
All about making that cash money
One by one, I’m
All about making that cash money
No, you can’t top me Foos used to rob me Rap is my hobby
Bitches in the lobby
Waiting and waiting, rush me like Satan
Try to get a glimpse of the gold plated dating
Hoping and hoping, three deep and foam some
With flow some, gangster shit and not the wholesome
Rhythms, Slow Pain (What up dog?)
Show these motherfuckers, once again it’s on Slapping in my house shoes, around the deep three camp
Put whip ass cream with my cane wood
Dropping funky yo stun cause 16th and 8 ball
9−7-6, brings the horny funk on Welcome to the hood foo, stroll with me And if you make it out alive, you’re a real OG
Bring your ride and your shank and we having fun
Popping hoes, playing stick, come up one on one
One by one, I’m
All about making that cash money
One by one, I’m
All about making that cash money
One by one, I’m
All about making that cash money
One by one, I’m
All about making that cash money
I was puffing on a P dawg, flipping through my CDs
The OGs, Mary Wells, and the Bee Gees
Hanging out the window, throwing up gang signs
Slipping in the darkness in a 79
Riding in the funky low ride glassy Coupe DeVille
Homies, we the bomb on the real
Hoping hoes in the streets with eaze
Pass the P dawg to my foo, A.L.T
My trigger finger rests on the 17 switch
187 on a punk ass bitch
One by one, I keep knocking them down
They frown, I’m mopping up the tears of a clown
I walk with my head up high
Why, sipping that moutai makes me feel quite high
I clip gets popped in the gun for fun
Foos keep falling down, one by one
One by one, I’m
All about making that cash money
One by one, I’m
All about making that cash money
One by one, I’m
All about making that cash money
One by one, I’m
All about making that cash money