Testi When the Money Comes - La the Darkman, Willie the Kid, J-Love

When the Money Comes - La the Darkman, Willie the Kid, J-Love
Informazioni sulla canzone In questa pagina puoi trovare il testo della canzone When the Money Comes, artista - La the Darkman.
Data di rilascio: 20.08.2010
Linguaggio delle canzoni: inglese

When the Money Comes

Yeah, I rock different color forces, cherry and mango*\nDifferent color whip collection look like a rainbow\nSometimes I push the benz, sometimes the range rove\nStandard, the luxury, they can’t figure my angle\nBut they know that I get dough from the way that my chain glow\nDiamonds get em on my dick, I could snatch your main ho\nFar as the flow, I’m like a Ferrari Testero\nWhen I hit the gas on that ass, nigga I’ma blow\nSorta like Russell Crowe, smooth and on the low\nGetting money trying not to let nobody know\nIn and out of state, with that weight, bag it up, get that cake\nPray for every trip, I get there safe\nIf I don’t believe I’ll be stuck in a jail space\nSo I move with urgency, but at a snail’s pace\nWith God’s grace, I keep getting checks like Mase\nWhen it comes to hip-hop, I’ma be the new face\nEverybody want a piece son when the money comes\nSome are smart with it, some are just dumb\nNiggas will try to kill you just to get a crumb\nBut I’m from the hood, so I bust my gun\nAyo, when it’s time in Chi-Town I’m on my way\nMagnificant mile to spend a lil somethin\nI’m pimping hard out in Detroit\nCatch me in Greek Town, Casino style I’ll win a lil something\nSyke, naw, I don’t gamble\nI scramble the top floor renaissance overlooking Windsor\nWatch the sunset, next morning shoot the summer set\nCardiar store where they overlook pretenders\nIt’s Coney Island, I don’t need no McDonalds\nBack to the Chi, yo I need G.O. Donalds\nShoot to the roof, nigga home sweet home\nBut ain’t shit sweet at home\nExcept the chicks, pretty mamas who accept this dick\nI fuck a nigga’s baby moma with the high school wit\nThey know Willie been fly, there’s no Benny Highners\nI’m b, p, and t, purge baskets you bastards\nI got it mastered, midwest’s best\nDirty south transplant, up town nigga\nI’m frequant flyer, I won’t stop nigga\nYou know how I get down, I get around

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