Lirik Lagu Money Talks - Lil' Kim F/ Andrea Martin Lil' Cease Trife
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Just Tim baland and Lil' Kim (na na nahh nah)Just Tim baland and Lil' Kim (uh uh huh what)Just Tim baland and Lil' Kim (na na nahh nah)Just Tim baland and Lil' Kim (uh uh huh what)
Yo yo yo yo this joint is strictly for heavyweightersnot them playa haters knahmsayin?Cause in the Commission you ask for permission to hit em uhh
Verse One: Lil' Kim
My man Blake flew me to the Erie LakeIntroduced me to this heavyweighter, called hisself DrakeFirst mistake, Jesus piece was fakeBut wait, he got singles in his cake, I ain't fuckin with himNumber one rule, always keep your cool, even thoughyou ain't a fool, and you see right through the nigga, how he figure?If he holdin less than sixHe gonna get the seven digits or visit, numbers in my Wizard?Duke ain't even worth the spaceGlass shoes and igloos put him dead in his placeDamn Blake, can't tell this cat is a snake?I got 20/20 vision (uhh) funny money vision (uh-huh)No dough, no show, dodo, that's a no-noJust some famous words from the late Frank WhiteI blink right, if your bank tightDuke wanted me to work for him, even flirt for himWear a short skirt for him, he don't knowI'ma end up hurtin him at the end of the dayShit, I got bills to pay, and it ain't my faultIf money talk and bullshit walk, round one
Chorus: Andrea Martin
I'm in love wit ta mon, nearly twice my ageI want to give it up anyway, because it more payMore time, more money, have it your way(repeat 2X)
Know de money and the lovin is my styleMe a forget it tonight
Verse Two: Lil' Kim
Mmm... uhh, UHH, uhh, uhhThe play starts at 8:00, let's hit the venueInvited his man, and some bitch named KendallTried to style on em, shoes with the crocadile on emBut the nigga still was corny, he bore meHis preference was more sorta like soccerMe, I do operas with the Mali and the vodkaout in Cali gettin proper, and I, betcha fiftyMy whole commitee stay shitty ask Smitty with the Desert E'sOne glance at the Benz-y make ya freezePlease, I got a mil on these, whatchu talkin? I...hate this nigga in the worst wayAnd I didn't wanna be here in the first placeBut uhh, It's just vendetta for my manDo anything for the fam, I'ma go along with the planTryin hard not to throw him offAnd I know he soft, when I cough, it's to cover up a lieand the lie keep me full of empathySo when I shit on this nigga, he gon' still pamper meI see, this nigga ain't about nuttin, cause he keep frontinHe must be up to somethin, round em up, here I comeUhhh
Chorus
Verse Three: Lil' Kim, Trife, Lil' Cease
As the evening winds down, I'm making surethat my milli got rounds, plane ticket back to town, nowI picked the place, Umberto's of course it'sItalian where they confiscate, burners in they officeMetamorphis anywhere, any year, who dareThey the mob and they don't care, and I swear, while I'mcontemplatin thinkin about laterHere come the waiter with the phone in the tray, anyways"Is there a Queen in the house?" How could he say this out his mouth?I'm the only black chick with diamonds this thick, hopinit's my nigga Blake C.Cause sometimes these cat's like to fool you
Check it, let me school youRemember when I said those niggaz robbed LeoRolled on him, stuck him up in the black GeoThey was creole, used to be a tight trioTil one fled with the dough, what's his name? (Rio!)
I was a girlie lover, smooth undercoverPlayed they hoes in tight clothes like they was no otherDumbin like the Jungle Brothers, til they caught me for my gemsAll I'm sayin is what he did to me, do it to him, is you straight?
[Lil' Kim]You late, duct tape and cable ropeOnce I wrap it round his throat it's all she wrote, uhhhwha (oh oh)
nah nah nah nah (oh oh)whookie whookie whooooo! (oh oh)(oh oh oh) nah nah nah nah(oh oh) wha!(oh oh oh) nah nah nah nah (oh oh)
(oh oh oh) nah nah nah nah wha[bullshit walks, money talks](oh oh oh) nah nah nah nah wha[bullshit walks, money talks](oh oh oh) wha uh nah nah nah nah[uh, gotta get that money man, moeny talks](oh oh oh) nah nah nah nah wha[bullshit walks, money talks](oh oh oh) nah nah nah nah wha[bullshit walks, money talks](oh oh oh) wha uh nah nah nah nah[uh, gotta get that money man, moeny talks]
Yo yo yo yo this joint is strictly for heavyweightersnot them playa haters knahmsayin?Cause in the Commission you ask for permission to hit em uhh
Verse One: Lil' Kim
My man Blake flew me to the Erie LakeIntroduced me to this heavyweighter, called hisself DrakeFirst mistake, Jesus piece was fakeBut wait, he got singles in his cake, I ain't fuckin with himNumber one rule, always keep your cool, even thoughyou ain't a fool, and you see right through the nigga, how he figure?If he holdin less than sixHe gonna get the seven digits or visit, numbers in my Wizard?Duke ain't even worth the spaceGlass shoes and igloos put him dead in his placeDamn Blake, can't tell this cat is a snake?I got 20/20 vision (uhh) funny money vision (uh-huh)No dough, no show, dodo, that's a no-noJust some famous words from the late Frank WhiteI blink right, if your bank tightDuke wanted me to work for him, even flirt for himWear a short skirt for him, he don't knowI'ma end up hurtin him at the end of the dayShit, I got bills to pay, and it ain't my faultIf money talk and bullshit walk, round one
Chorus: Andrea Martin
I'm in love wit ta mon, nearly twice my ageI want to give it up anyway, because it more payMore time, more money, have it your way(repeat 2X)
Know de money and the lovin is my styleMe a forget it tonight
Verse Two: Lil' Kim
Mmm... uhh, UHH, uhh, uhhThe play starts at 8:00, let's hit the venueInvited his man, and some bitch named KendallTried to style on em, shoes with the crocadile on emBut the nigga still was corny, he bore meHis preference was more sorta like soccerMe, I do operas with the Mali and the vodkaout in Cali gettin proper, and I, betcha fiftyMy whole commitee stay shitty ask Smitty with the Desert E'sOne glance at the Benz-y make ya freezePlease, I got a mil on these, whatchu talkin? I...hate this nigga in the worst wayAnd I didn't wanna be here in the first placeBut uhh, It's just vendetta for my manDo anything for the fam, I'ma go along with the planTryin hard not to throw him offAnd I know he soft, when I cough, it's to cover up a lieand the lie keep me full of empathySo when I shit on this nigga, he gon' still pamper meI see, this nigga ain't about nuttin, cause he keep frontinHe must be up to somethin, round em up, here I comeUhhh
Chorus
Verse Three: Lil' Kim, Trife, Lil' Cease
As the evening winds down, I'm making surethat my milli got rounds, plane ticket back to town, nowI picked the place, Umberto's of course it'sItalian where they confiscate, burners in they officeMetamorphis anywhere, any year, who dareThey the mob and they don't care, and I swear, while I'mcontemplatin thinkin about laterHere come the waiter with the phone in the tray, anyways"Is there a Queen in the house?" How could he say this out his mouth?I'm the only black chick with diamonds this thick, hopinit's my nigga Blake C.Cause sometimes these cat's like to fool you
Check it, let me school youRemember when I said those niggaz robbed LeoRolled on him, stuck him up in the black GeoThey was creole, used to be a tight trioTil one fled with the dough, what's his name? (Rio!)
I was a girlie lover, smooth undercoverPlayed they hoes in tight clothes like they was no otherDumbin like the Jungle Brothers, til they caught me for my gemsAll I'm sayin is what he did to me, do it to him, is you straight?
[Lil' Kim]You late, duct tape and cable ropeOnce I wrap it round his throat it's all she wrote, uhhhwha (oh oh)
nah nah nah nah (oh oh)whookie whookie whooooo! (oh oh)(oh oh oh) nah nah nah nah(oh oh) wha!(oh oh oh) nah nah nah nah (oh oh)
(oh oh oh) nah nah nah nah wha[bullshit walks, money talks](oh oh oh) nah nah nah nah wha[bullshit walks, money talks](oh oh oh) wha uh nah nah nah nah[uh, gotta get that money man, moeny talks](oh oh oh) nah nah nah nah wha[bullshit walks, money talks](oh oh oh) nah nah nah nah wha[bullshit walks, money talks](oh oh oh) wha uh nah nah nah nah[uh, gotta get that money man, moeny talks]
