[Chorus: Project Pat]

Money, this that shit these robbers out here blast for

Money, this that shit these bitches clapping ass for

Money, this that shit a nigga living fast for

I'ma get me some, I'ma get me some

Money, this that shit these robbers out here blast for

Money, this that shit these bitches clapping ass for

Money, this that shit a nigga living fast for

I'ma get me some, I'ma get me some

[Verse 1: Project Pat]

Only thing I know is get money, I got to have that

Quick to put that chopper in your life, bitch, where that bread at?

I don’t want to rob, but I promise you that I will though

I'ma do whatever I got to to pay these bills, ho

These niggas say I’m rapping, but I could be trapping

A round of applause the way these nines get to clapping

A lot of y’all broads pillow talking with these bros

And telling all your business, pussy nigga, naw

I never tell my business to a ratchet ho

Oh nut gobbling slutty bitch, all she want is blow

And money’s everything, got my ride sitting clean

Boy, if you ain't seen a half a million you ain't seen shit

[Chorus: Project Pat]

Money, this that shit these robbers out here blast for

Money, this that shit these bitches clapping ass for

Money, this that shit a nigga living fast for

I'ma get me some, I'ma get me some

Money, this that shit these robbers out here blast for

Money, this that shit these bitches clapping ass for

Money, this that shit a nigga living fast for

I'ma get me some, I'ma get me some

[Verse 2: Rick Ross]

Baking soda my trick, making noise on my strip

Fuck her while she snorts salt, my dick hard as a brick

I'm the man moving that boy, Camero my new toy

Exclusive clientele, so hard Dan Aykroyd

I rubber band my check, Susan Summers all on my neck

Chevy running like a Corvette, still war ready on deck

And money bag on your head, they coming straight for your neck

Niggas stepping over your kids and running up in your nest

Louis shoes are all checkered, dollar bills are my chess

Bare [?] on my neck, smooth [?]

[Chorus: Project Pat]

Money, this that shit these robbers out here blast for

Money, this that shit these bitches clapping ass for

Money, this that shit a nigga living fast for

I'ma get me some, I'ma get me some

Money, this that shit these robbers out here blast for

Money, this that shit these bitches clapping ass for

Money, this that shit a nigga living fast for

I'ma get me some, I'ma get me some

[Verse 3: Juicy J]

WHO, walk in the bank!? WHO, open the safe!? WHO, I don't have account

WHO, my shit in the safe!? Passcode, bombproof

Ebola-proof, New York Times want a photo shoot? Double XL want to write reviews?

Sixty minutes, with Barbara Walters, fuck would I do? I did it

I had to get it, you won’t see my goons, got a thousand midgets

With text on 'em, I send a text to 'em, to hide in your crib and send a text back

They put rattle snakes in your baby’s crib, Bushwick Bill, the ugliest niggas

That kill, I'm laughing, I'm counting my money with cheers, BURRRRR, you niggas is her's -

Bitch made, C section with a switch blade, stupid

I go buy Rav', you talking sideways? I’m parking that bitch, in your baby driveway

How do I do it, that's how I stunt on a hater, fuck would I do else?

Fuck what I knew, fuck what I do, if I ain't doing Juicy J to the fullest?

That Juicy J carrying metric tons, since I was thirteen, watching Pat in the coke game

'Til I grew up shouting Three-Six (MAFIA!), fifty-million dollars in the basement (MAFIA!)

I buy your connect on an iMessage, bitch don’t flood my emails

Juicy J, I never fly alone, my weed got frequent, flier mileage

(Money!)