take it - cash kidd lyrics
[intro: bra’sha taylor]
oh
yeah
(i’m kured)
ooh
ayy, yeah
bra’sha, baby
[chorus: bra’sha taylor]
take it, ain’t no fakin’
money on the floor, yeah, i’m gon’ make it, make it
take it, ain’t no fakin’
money on the floor, yeah, i’m gon’ make it, make it
[verse 1: cash kidd]
yeah, sh*t so easy
they stackin’ for the summer? i ball all four seasons
now they tryna lend a hand now that i don’t need ’em
used to walk with no shoes, now my toes bleedin’
rockin’ christian louboutins, ooh, thank you lord jesus
all these n*ggas is my sons, i should coach phoenix
i just backdoored my n*gga on this stole demon
clip got a curl on it like ohgeesy
i got all my homeboys scammin’ and my hoes schemin’
i ride around with my computer like a policeman
ayy, i be laughin’ at them rumors, y’all for sure dreamin’
closet full of name brands like moesha
tell my b*tch to get what she like, she in the store cheesin’
p*ssy was so good, woke up and blocked your b*tch for no reason
had to give my ho a pep talk, ain’t makin’ no pizza
i would really love to kick it with you, but my phone ringin’, n*gga, ayy
[chorus: bra’sha taylor]
take it, ain’t no fakin’
money on the floor, yeah, i’m gon’ make it, make it
take it, ain’t no fakin’
money on the floor, yeah, i’m gon’ make it, make it
[verse 2: cash kidd]
feel like obama
long sleeves back to back with like four choppers
bullets get singin’ at ’em like yolanda
four*five get to whistlin’ like flo rida
yeah, he got shot for lookin’ tough, boy, f*ck is your problem?
broke*ass bum got no clothes like a door stopper
i feel bad ’cause she slow and i got throat out her
gave him a slug from the fire, now i got four dollars
had a threesome, my b*tch gettin’ jealous ’cause that b*tch moan louder
my n*gga switched up out the blue, i think he on powder
gotta be, ’cause he should know that i got low tolerance
she said, “that’s ironic ’cause you rich and sold chocolate”
ask your b*tch, she’ll tell you why i’m so confident
the murder weapon long gone, boy, it ain’t no findin’ it
i just went crazy in sak, i feel like stojaković
these bullets got your name on one like george washington, n*gga, ayy
[chorus: bra’sha taylor]
take it, ain’t no fakin’
money on the floor, yeah, i’m gon’ make it, make it
take it, ain’t no fakin’
money on the floor, yeah, i’m gon’ make it, make it
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