DJ Pharris The Money Lyrics

DJ Pharris Ft. R.Kelly - The Money Lyrics @ Hip Hop Lyrics

DJ Pharris Lyrics The Money

Pull up to the club all blackberg in it
Doors go up Kelly step out icy
Yall all know why they want to leave with a fella like me
The money the money
Take them to the crib let 'em sip on a few drinks
Shortly after that have them all strip for me
Man it ain’t no secret why these chicks all fuck with me
The money the money
Why they make em shake ass in your face the money
Bring your girlfriend with her to your place the money
It’s the weather man telling you the money makes the girls go round

(Fat Joe)
Yall know me its psumnami joe
The Puerto Rican mc with the fiery flow
And I keeping asking why she love me so
And she keeps saying not cause of the doe
But every time we stop front of da store
She gonna act like Busta yo gimmy some more
Now I don’t usually pitty a broad
But she was working with her fat ass titties galore
And Trash told me that he hit it before
He met her at the strip club back in New York
Now my dumb ass went bought out the store
Talking everything from Gucci Christian Dior
Now mi amor it’s either or you wifey material or be my whore
Anyway you put it I’mma even the score
I got 30 just like you wait in the car
found on http://www.hiphoplyrics.info/2011/04/dj-pharris-money-lyrics.html
[Chorus:]
(Fabolous)
They say money talks this time over a flute loop
I like a chick who could ball but her cute swoops
I’m nothing but many mansions and cute coupes
Rainbow storms the same color as fruit loops
High attract chicks in high elute group
They like ballers who don’t actually shoot hoops
It ain’t really me what could it really be
Cause I’m just a ghetto boy like Willie D
They say the money be making me look Billy dee's
And i thought i was kinda cute silly me
But ask a girl i done been with before i spend with the dought
‘Til she look like Jennifer Lo...pez
You could be in saint Tro...pez
If you do what the man with the dough says
And that’s why the models sticking close
Yeah a dollar and a dream I'm lotto ticket most

[Chorus:]
(Busta Rhymes)
Yo
The way a nigga swag sick and I step right
Bitches call a nigga brad pit cause my bread right
We know you niggas broke and you tight fraud my money
Attract Eddie Murphy's ex-wife with them tight bras
I keep it hood like New Orleans in a knife war
When mammy’s try to touch my bread i sting out they spine cord
I laugh at these bitches I see how they plot funny
After they see me make it rain mansion and yacht money
When they see us they be like they be them
Niggas said now let’s stake it have access like ATM
Trust you better punch the right pin code
And just in case u ain’t knowing u better punch flip mode
Bread stack like mountains in Colorado
I’ll make you want to give me head to the rhythm and the sound of Movado
The reggae artist take a look at the dread without the locks tell me what you really want to do for this bread
Shorty

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