[Chorus 2X with variations]
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
Im 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 Im 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 dont 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 Im a pimp
Lil nigga bout to rape the market
If we talkin bout money baby now we talkin

[Chorus]

[Hook: during 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