What I Call It

More money, more problems
More money, more problems
More money, more problems
Fuck shit what I call it

More money, more problems
More money, more problems
More money, more problems
Fuck shit what I call it

Gotta keep the fam close, no problem
Got a nine with a beam on the bottom
If they with me then they with me then I got 'em
Don't give a fuck how nobody feel about 'em
Now get me hyped up, get me piped up
If you [?] up you gettin' sliced up
It's that north side, it's that Three 6
I'm comin' hard nigga, fuck that weak shit
And you can get it in the hood but you can't keep it
Cause ain't nobody in the hood gon' let you keep shit
I've been up all night, fuck that sleep shit
Old lady 'cross the street try'na peep shit

More money, more problems
More money, more problems
More money, more problems
Fuck shit what I call it

More money, more problems
More money, more problems
More money, more problems
Fuck shit what I call it

More money, more hoes, more bills
More bags, more clothes, more hills
Ain't gon' lie I do it for the thrill
When I see the bill I just get the chill
Fuck bitches, get money
And fuck you if you can't do shit for me
Since I've been rich all the hoes say they love me
Even all the hoes that used to say they wouldn't fuck me
Now if I ever hit 'em back they lucky
Yeah, they lucky
And I don't know 'em like that but they trust me
But I don't trust 'em though and that's just me

More money, more problems
More money, more problems
More money, more problems
Fuck shit what I call it
More money, more problems
More money, more problems
More money, more problems
Fuck shit what I call it
Fuck shit what I call it
Fuck shit what I call it



Credits
Writer(s): Jordan Houston, Bryan Lamar Simmons
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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