Get This Money (Letra)

Contribuição

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#Compartilhe

[J] Yeah yeah
[R] Damn it’s hot
[J] Like a muh’fucker
[R] Yo Jigga
[J] Whassup my nigga?
[R] Pop that water
[J] Fo’schizzle!
[both laughing]
[R] Yeah
[J] Get’cha mind right, c’mon

[Jay-Z]
Uh-uh-uh, uh-uh, uh-uh-uh
Uh-uh uh-uh – gettin that money my nigga
(woo.. woo.. woo.. woo..)
You better call the muh’fuckin cops
This is a crime, uh-uh, let’s go

[R. Kelly + (Jay-Z)]
Keys to the Bentley, off to the club
Switchin lanes like what the..
Chick on the cell wanna get with a bruh
But y’all know I don’t love no.. (never love her)
She, say, she, slick
I’m, like, baby, please
She, say she’s got a man
but what’s that got to do with me? (f’real)
Some chicks like low-key
Wrists of, zero degrees
I’m, toxic off the Belve’
Two strippers, in my hotel suite
Fee fie and, foe fum-ah
Look out now, here I come-ah
For you haters, keepin up trauma
Me and Jigga thugged out on the come up (holla)

[Chorus: R. Kelly]
You got what I want; I got what you need
Let’s put it together; get, this, mo-ney
You got what I want; I got what you need
Let’s put it together; get, this, mo-ney

[R. Kelly + (Jay-Z)]
Ace hit the club ‘bout five o’clock (woo!)
Hungry ‘bout to hit the IHOP (let’s go)
After that, menage-a-trois
And he out by seven o’clock (p-YOON)
Cause I’m a baller, thought I told ya
Blue rocks lightin up my shoulders (bling!)
See y’all niggaz know y’all need to grow up
Your album ain’t out, cause I’m the hold up (ha)
Busters wanna hoop with me
Wanna run our ways, doin R&B
I’ll, creep creep, blink blink
Cross your ass over, take it from me
Fee fie and, foe fum-ah
Look out now, here I come-ah
Golddiggers, this you gets none of
Me and Jigga thugged out on the come up (holla)

[Chorus]

[Jay-Z + (R. Kelly)]
Pull up on the block, cran-apple Benz
White tank top, cran-apple trim
Egg-shaped watch, cran-apple gems
Dice hands ‘side both of them
Two rolls and I leave with a stack
Off to the club, G’s in in the back
V.I.P. nigga beez like that
When you gettin that money my nigga (get.. this.. mo-ney)
I spit this for my riders
Twenty-inch rims and wide body drivers
We can’t let nothin stop us (get.. this.. mo-ney)
Young H-O-V-A
And the boy R. Kel’, you know how we play
For that fetti, mayne, we’ll let the lead rang
You young boyz ain’t ready
You don’t know NANN a nigga to NEAR Jigga
to NEAR as well as me and the boy Kel’
Yeah it’s money, recognize the smell
And we up out this bitch, yell

[Chorus]

[Jay-Z + (R. Kelly)]
Gettin that money my nigga
Ha ha, ha ha
Ha ha ha ha ha ha
I gotta laugh at this shit (get.. this.. money)
Gettin this money my nigga
Yeah, ohh oh ohh oh
Oh it’s too late to get scared niggaz (get.. this.. mo-ney)
It’s way too late now..
.. gettin this money my nigga (get.. this.. mo-ney)

[Chorus + Jay-Z ad libs]

[J] Gettin that money my nigga

Compartilhe!

Get This Money (Letra)

Contribuição

Download

#Compartilhe

{J} Yeah yeah
{R} Damn it’s hot
{J} Like a muh’fucker
{R} Yo Jigga
{J} Whassup my nigga?
{R} Pop that water
{J} Fo’schizzle!
{both laughing}
{R} Yeah
{J} Get’cha mind right, c’mon

{Jay-Z}
Uh-uh-uh, uh-uh, uh-uh-uh
Uh-uh uh-uh – gettin that money my nigga
(woo.. woo.. woo.. woo..)
You better call the muh’fuckin cops
This is a crime, uh-uh, let’s go

{R. Kelly + (Jay-Z)}
Keys to the Bentley, off to the club
Switchin lanes like what the..
Chick on the cell wanna get with a bruh
But y’all know I don’t love no.. (never love her)
She, say, she, slick
I’m, like, baby, please
She, say she’s got a man
but what’s that got to do with me? (f’real)
Some chicks like low-key
Wrists of, zero degrees
I’m, toxic off the Belve’
Two strippers, in my hotel suite
Fee fie and, foe fum-ah
Look out now, here I come-ah
For you haters, keepin up trauma
Me and Jigga thugged out on the come up (holla)

{Chorus: R. Kelly}
You got what I want; I got what you need
Let’s put it together; get, this, mo-ney
You got what I want; I got what you need
Let’s put it together; get, this, mo-ney

{R. Kelly + (Jay-Z)}
Ace hit the club ‘bout five o’clock (woo!)
Hungry ‘bout to hit the IHOP (let’s go)
After that, menage-a-trois
And he out by seven o’clock (p-YOON)
Cause I’m a baller, thought I told ya
Blue rocks lightin up my shoulders (bling!)
See y’all niggaz know y’all need to grow up
Your album ain’t out, cause I’m the hold up (ha)
Busters wanna hoop with me
Wanna run our ways, doin R&B
I’ll, creep creep, blink blink
Cross your ass over, take it from me
Fee fie and, foe fum-ah
Look out now, here I come-ah
Golddiggers, this you gets none of
Me and Jigga thugged out on the come up (holla)

::Chorus::

{Jay-Z + (R. Kelly)}
Pull up on the block, cran-apple Benz
White tank top, cran-apple trim
Egg-shaped watch, cran-apple gems
Dice hands ‘side both of them
Two rolls and I leave with a stack
Off to the club, G’s in in the back
V.I.P. nigga beez like that
When you gettin that money my nigga (get.. this.. mo-ney)
I spit this for my riders
Twenty-inch rims and wide body drivers
We can’t let nothin stop us (get.. this.. mo-ney)
Young H-O-V-A
And the boy R. Kel’, you know how we play
For that fetti, mayne, we’ll let the lead rang
You young boyz ain’t ready
You don’t know NANN a nigga to NEAR Jigga
to NEAR as well as me and the boy Kel’
Yeah it’s money, recognize the smell
And we up out this bitch, yell

::Chorus::

{Jay-Z + (R. Kelly)}
Gettin that money my nigga
Ha ha, ha ha
Ha ha ha ha ha ha
I gotta laugh at this shit (get.. this.. money)
Gettin this money my nigga
Yeah, ohh oh ohh oh
Oh it’s too late to get scared niggaz (get.. this.. mo-ney)
It’s way too late now..
.. gettin this money my nigga (get.. this.. mo-ney)

{Chorus + Jay-Z ad libs}

{J} Gettin that money my nigga

Get This Money (Letra)

Download

#Compartilhe

[Chorus]
Come on, all my ladies, let’s get this money
Come on, all my fellas, let’s get this money
It’s only for all of us to get this money
Ain’t no need for player haters acting funny

Come on, all my ladies, let’s get this money
Come on, all my fellas, let’s get this money
Trina finna show you how to get this money, right

[Verse 1]
You gotta have a J-O-B to be with me
Best believe I’m going diamond on my next LP
I stacked my game up, sexed my frame up
Bitches using my style, I’m set to change up
Unh, new year, new gray Jag
After the first album, you should hear Shay brag
I been around the world playing 2-way tag
While these wannabe Trinas out here claim bad
But guess what, I’m still the baddest
Jewels still flooded with 24 karats
OK, you know I live lavish
Chanel glass slippers in a Cinderella palace

[Chorus]

[Verse 2]
Unh, unh, See me on South Beach rolling the five
When I come through hoes rolling they eyes
I’m the- baddest bitch, so I’m used to that
Draped in the hot shit off the Gucci rack
I like Tiffany ice, that expensive stuff
The diamond princess draped in princess cuts
Don’t be mad hoe, cause I’m that bad hoe
Pushing that pink Lamborghini Diablo
I play niggas like dummies for the fast money
You wanna holla, it’s gon’ cost you cash money
Slip and slide, then we stacking chips
The redbone, wonder woman with the platinum wrist

[Chorus]

[Verse 3]
Breakdown
Miami hot, ‘Candy’ flopped
I’m the new bad girl and I can’t be stopped
Unh, sipping Bailey’s, flossing daily
On TRL with Carson Daly
Dressed to chill, icy, extra chill
Touch of class, bad with the sex appeal
Flawless baby, female ballers baby
Stay diggin’ in them millionaires wallets baby
Tored up, Christian Dior’d up
Cases of that Cris, gettin poured up
Got it sewed up, like stitches
Reppin’ for my bad bitches, stackin’ riches
I shine, baby cause the game is mine
I’m on top of the charts, no room to climb
And when I say I’m the baddest, I’m mean it
Me and this cash, can’t nothing come between this

[Chorus – repeat 2X]

Get This Money (Letra)

Jay-Z

Download

#Compartilhe

[J] Yeah yeah
[R] Damn it’s hot
[J] Like a muh’fucker
[R] Yo Jigga
[J] Whassup my nigga?
[R] Pop that water
[J] Fo’schizzle!
[both laughing]
[R] Yeah
[J] Get’cha mind right, c’mon

[Jay-Z]
Uh-uh-uh, uh-uh, uh-uh-uh
Uh-uh uh-uh – gettin that money my nigga
(woo.. woo.. woo.. woo..)
You better call the muh’fuckin cops
This is a crime, uh-uh, let’s go

[R. Kelly + (Jay-Z)]
Keys to the Bentley, off to the club
Switchin lanes like what the..
Chick on the cell wanna get with a bruh
But y’all know I don’t love no.. (never love her)
She, say, she, slick
I’m, like, baby, please
She, say she’s got a man
but what’s that got to do with me? (f’real)
Some chicks like low-key
Wrists of, zero degrees
I’m, toxic off the Belve’
Two strippers, in my hotel suite
Fee fie and, foe fum-ah
Look out now, here I come-ah
For you haters, keepin up trauma
Me and Jigga thugged out on the come up (holla)

[Chorus: R. Kelly]
You got what I want; I got what you need
Let’s put it together; get, this, mo-ney
You got what I want; I got what you need
Let’s put it together; get, this, mo-ney

[R. Kelly + (Jay-Z)]
Ace hit the club ‘bout five o’clock (woo!)
Hungry ‘bout to hit the IHOP (let’s go)
After that, menage-a-trois
And he out by seven o’clock (p-YOON)
Cause I’m a baller, thought I told ya
Blue rocks lightin up my shoulders (bling!)
See y’all niggaz know y’all need to grow up
Your album ain’t out, cause I’m the hold up (ha)
Busters wanna hoop with me
Wanna run our ways, doin R&B
I’ll, creep creep, blink blink
Cross your ass over, take it from me
Fee fie and, foe fum-ah
Look out now, here I come-ah
Golddiggers, this you gets none of
Me and Jigga thugged out on the come up (holla)

[Chorus]

[Jay-Z + (R. Kelly)]
Pull up on the block, cran-apple Benz
White tank top, cran-apple trim
Egg-shaped watch, cran-apple gems
Dice hands ‘side both of them
Two rolls and I leave with a stack
Off to the club, G’s in in the back
V.I.P. nigga beez like that
When you gettin that money my nigga (get.. this.. mo-ney)
I spit this for my riders
Twenty-inch rims and wide body drivers
We can’t let nothin stop us (get.. this.. mo-ney)
Young H-O-V-A
And the boy R. Kel’, you know how we play
For that fetti, mayne, we’ll let the lead rang
You young boyz ain’t ready
You don’t know NANN a nigga to NEAR Jigga
to NEAR as well as me and the boy Kel’
Yeah it’s money, recognize the smell
And we up out this bitch, yell

[Chorus]

[Jay-Z + (R. Kelly)]
Gettin that money my nigga
Ha ha, ha ha
Ha ha ha ha ha ha
I gotta laugh at this shit (get.. this.. money)
Gettin this money my nigga
Yeah, ohh oh ohh oh
Oh it’s too late to get scared niggaz (get.. this.. mo-ney)
It’s way too late now..
.. gettin this money my nigga (get.. this.. mo-ney)

[Chorus + Jay-Z ad libs]

[J] Gettin that money my nigga