The Tropaholics - Mind On My Money lyrics

[Intro] I got my mind on my money and I'm not going away So keep on getting your paper [Brinx] Now behold it's your excellence C.I.T.C.O., forward slash president East side resident, it's oh so evident Brinx Billy ride cousin, black on black phantom, 26's on the side of em Ninas on the side of em, goonies on the side of em Anybody get it boy be careful on the side of them These n***as'll bury you, guns, no serial Money hungry honey with me when they holla she gonna carry you Flyer than a aerial, vehicle, [?] Sitting on my feet when I'm stuntin on them people I tell no fables everything tailored Fax machines, office max, see me for that paper You working with short bread, ain't my money long youngin' b**h I'm bout trappin, more digits than a phone number Different time zones on em, k** them n***as lyrically Left side of my closet, look invaded by Italy Right side Paris, left side flagging, paper is my main chick, me and money married And that's all a n***a know b**h, that's why these brand new n***as on my old sh** [Speaking: Nicki Minaj] That's what I did I came up out the truck you what I'm mean I chuck my deuces like that's all I do like Young Money Nicki Minaj it's the ninja Harajuku barbie and all that Like nah mean all that we getting money you writing disses we getting money (yeaaaaa boiiiiii) Hit me my limousine, all in your magazine And when I come, them better lean like Promethazine Dem no seh Nicki nice, I'm bout' my money mama And tell Michelle, I got my eye on Barack Obama Tryna' get that Madonna. You know, Hannah Montana Could find me sitting' Indian style with the Dalai Lama Konichiwa I get my yin and I say sayonara I'm meditating, I'm in cahoots with a higher power Mind on my money mi-mi-mind on my money yo Mind on my money mi-mi-mind (Namu Myoho Renge Kyo) Mind on money aye, mind on my money babe How does this money taste? whining on moneys face You see the signs and the teachings If you ain't know well this is grinding season Now go and get your gangs signs, throw it up! Where all my n***as on them bikes? Throw it up We don't care what you say, we ain't going away My n***as bring the heat, it's not a summer day So find all my motherf**in' money, my mind on my motherf**in' money [Speakin: Busta Rhymes] Ayo I speak foreign languages and sh** but the language I speak is that money language (laughs) flipmode b**h Brinx I like how we do the brinx truck job on these n***as homey Time after time again I like n***as and Remind n***as how I hold out on motherf**ers n***as out here fronting about they bread you can't trust it n***as my money so Stupid call me Warren Busta Buss n***a Glad it ain't a toss and everything about me bu*ters I've been counting money so Long I see dollar signs and different colors My money is smear and smothered your money you hear me brother Been about that bread like I was broke or still in the gutter And in case you ain't know there will be no replacement and them bags of Arab Money I got stashed in the basement face it When ever I shine, I glisten and when ever I talk, you listen ain't no money Getting made in these street without my permission, I keeps it drug infested my Money is well connected, it's to the point my conglomerate is well respected you need to Check my method, I promise you I be the wrong n***a that's comes to my money t=That You ever want to mess with, grind like missionary labor, holding dignitary paper You already know my team is filled with consigliers We made you I don't give a f** about your stipulation Type of bread appropriate for every situation You can tell by the j**elery sitting on my collar, from the bread to the crib, I know all about the dollar