Get Money
Get MOney, Get Money, dats how a nigga eat/
hustle fast, hustle hard, its how its gotta b/
n da office or da block, niggas gotta get it/
hustle socks, hustle rocks, its how niggas live it/
once upon a time, i ran into dis cat/
mike showed me his life, how it fade to blak/
Dat D-boy hustle was da only thing he saw/
hit da curb, flip a bird, nigga's sellin raw/
my mann had role models...dem ones wit da riches/
dey was ridin on blades and a flock a bitches/
wit da shine in his vision, dat life so exsqusite/
da game had him gassed up afta a couple visits/
he was ready 2 prove mann/ dat he was dat dude mann/
da numba 1 hustla, so he got on da move mann/
he hit da mound, pitchin white like he was roger clemens/
gotta phat farm of chickens, da fiends called him russell simmons/
his hustle game was vicious, a hungry lil nigga/
his product movin ridicious, so da packages got bigga/
he copped a topless S 6,5 stones on each fist/
ice out grill 2 chill da sierra mist/
Get MOney, Get Money, dats how a nigga eat/
hustle fast, hustle hard, its how its gotta b/
n da office or da block, niggas gotta get it/
hustle socks, hustle rocks, its how niggas live it/
now my man jimmy here was different, did things right/
explained his story, how he was winning da fight/
his daddy was a janitor, mama was a nurse/
moved him out da hood, so dey wuld neva see da herst/
drivin dey boy, who got caught in da mix/
he was ridin he tricycle, da boy was only six/
but he grew n da suburbs, got all a's in school/
he was outshinin da whites, since king change da rules/
he started hustlin like his daddy, no job he wouldn't do/
u could see him n da mornin shine'n people shoes/
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poem by Dis Guy.... His name is Clif
Added by Poetry Lover
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