"Where's My Money?" lyrics
(from "Grand Theft Auto IV" soundtrack)
Motherfucker, where
Where my fucking money, money, money?
Bitch, where my fucking money?
Ayo, Green, I feel like I'm turning green too
From Bill Bixby to some Incredible Hulk shit
I don't even know why you give me shit like this to spit to
I'm sure we speak the same language
Fuck you bitches, pay me
Wait a minute, came to go get it, ranger fitted
Whenever it come to paper, better know I'm major with it
Make it rain a major blizzard, leather alligator lizard
I Talledega race any challenger; name a digit!
Even if on the slightest, you take a smidget
Or dare touch my revenue, I'll slice you with the razor, quit it!
Icy till I make it frigid, burr
The laws of physics says it's getting cold
My money taller than a hall of midgets
I get up all up in it, kicking down the door, who is it?
Bitch, I be the crew of bill collectors, pay them all a visit
After cleaning bank accounts you questioned
If I gave a shit, if not I tell the truth
So you could tell 'em that the player did it
It's OK, I say a prayer, it's the mayor bitch slayer
Giving you another layer of the data trick
Bust Rhymes, hitting you with punch lines
Funny how I fuck dimes
Bitch, you know I want mine
Where my fucking money?
I ain't speaking foreign, you know what I'm sayin'
Better have my bread, nigga, I ain't playin'
Bitch, where my fucking money?
Mark every word spoken
Reddish so you're pussy if you think I'm jokin'
Motherfucker, where my fucking money?
Think I still ain't crazy 'cause I cut my dreads
And if you short my cake, I'm off side of your head
Bitch, where my fucking money?
Critical, it's pitiful, I'm cynical
How I deliver lyricals and take these other niggas paper
Topsy-tervy controversy, I'm so thirsty, got no mercy
For some of these bitches, I collect my money now and later
Keep it moving with the clique
While making bitches hit the strip
Cake up everyday I wake, I rate the way my money flip
I want it's mine, borderline, call it crime
All the shine I'm taking it, ain't no mistaking it
Nigga, what's yours is mine
No need to second guess it, check it, I'm the gloss and grind
The gritty and the floss, the profit and the loss, all intertwined
Because I profit from your losses
You don't want it, you should get it
In the hood with your money, I extended my line of credit
The medic, doctor rhymes that put you on a diuretic
Shrinking up a nigga pockets, simple niggas style pathetic
Bust Rhymes, hitting you with punch lines
Funny how I fuck dimes
Bitch, you know I want mine
Where my fucking money?
I ain't speaking foreign, you know what I'm sayin'
Better have my bread, nigga, I ain't playin'
Bitch, where my fucking money?
Mark every word spoken
Reddish so you're pussy if you think I'm jokin'
Motherfucker, where my fucking money?
Think I still ain't crazy 'cause I cut my dreads
And if you short my cake, I'm off side of your head
Bitch, where my fucking money?
Where my fucking money, money, money?
Bitch, where my fucking money?
Ayo, Green, I feel like I'm turning green too
From Bill Bixby to some Incredible Hulk shit
I don't even know why you give me shit like this to spit to
I'm sure we speak the same language
Fuck you bitches, pay me
Wait a minute, came to go get it, ranger fitted
Whenever it come to paper, better know I'm major with it
Make it rain a major blizzard, leather alligator lizard
I Talledega race any challenger; name a digit!
Even if on the slightest, you take a smidget
Or dare touch my revenue, I'll slice you with the razor, quit it!
Icy till I make it frigid, burr
The laws of physics says it's getting cold
My money taller than a hall of midgets
I get up all up in it, kicking down the door, who is it?
Bitch, I be the crew of bill collectors, pay them all a visit
After cleaning bank accounts you questioned
If I gave a shit, if not I tell the truth
So you could tell 'em that the player did it
It's OK, I say a prayer, it's the mayor bitch slayer
Giving you another layer of the data trick
Bust Rhymes, hitting you with punch lines
Funny how I fuck dimes
Bitch, you know I want mine
Where my fucking money?
I ain't speaking foreign, you know what I'm sayin'
Better have my bread, nigga, I ain't playin'
Bitch, where my fucking money?
Mark every word spoken
Reddish so you're pussy if you think I'm jokin'
Motherfucker, where my fucking money?
Think I still ain't crazy 'cause I cut my dreads
And if you short my cake, I'm off side of your head
Bitch, where my fucking money?
Critical, it's pitiful, I'm cynical
How I deliver lyricals and take these other niggas paper
Topsy-tervy controversy, I'm so thirsty, got no mercy
For some of these bitches, I collect my money now and later
Keep it moving with the clique
While making bitches hit the strip
Cake up everyday I wake, I rate the way my money flip
I want it's mine, borderline, call it crime
All the shine I'm taking it, ain't no mistaking it
Nigga, what's yours is mine
No need to second guess it, check it, I'm the gloss and grind
The gritty and the floss, the profit and the loss, all intertwined
Because I profit from your losses
You don't want it, you should get it
In the hood with your money, I extended my line of credit
The medic, doctor rhymes that put you on a diuretic
Shrinking up a nigga pockets, simple niggas style pathetic
Bust Rhymes, hitting you with punch lines
Funny how I fuck dimes
Bitch, you know I want mine
Where my fucking money?
I ain't speaking foreign, you know what I'm sayin'
Better have my bread, nigga, I ain't playin'
Bitch, where my fucking money?
Mark every word spoken
Reddish so you're pussy if you think I'm jokin'
Motherfucker, where my fucking money?
Think I still ain't crazy 'cause I cut my dreads
And if you short my cake, I'm off side of your head
Bitch, where my fucking money?
Writer(s): Trevor Smith, James D Agostino
