Life She Chose
Get your favorite dress up for tonight's show
No tie, no curtain slack, a house crest
Well don't give it a thought
We're glad you came as you are
We just want you to enjoy your sight
Uh
Money make the world go
Money make these girls go
Block is hot, the world is cold
Your homies is lost souls
Uh, uh
Money make the world go
Money make these girls go
Block is hot, the world is cold
Your homies is lost souls
Might see it at a crossroad
Trade your life, offer some small gold
She cryin' in the Rolls but this the life she chose
Can't be so naive, you seein' that Ice on me
You know what that mean
You know this life and what it bring
Now is you really tryna be a team?
Really tryna win them championship ranks
It's not a easy thing, though a breeze it seems
I get high on the beats and interpret my dreams
I find motivation in everythin', it's the life of a king
The crown is heavy G
Niggas risk anythin' to be, seen
In pictures next to niggas that they figure, wear some green
They worse than bitches, the coldest gold diggers
Smoke a whole ounce wit' ya then kill ya
But that's yo nigga (That's yo nigga)
Money make the world go
Money make these girls go
Block is hot, the world is cold
Your homies is lost souls
Seein' to the crossroads
Trade your life in, for some small gold
She cryin' in the Rolls but this the life she chose
G-side
The end, the chef
Smoke weed in it
I don't post 'em in your pictures
You can keep a secret, we can always kick it
I told her rule number one, don't talk about me 'round here
That shit they have suspicious
Hands switchin' on chef highway, def
Lose lips sink ships
Money make the world go
Money make these girls go
The block is hot, the world is cold
Your homies is lost souls
They're seein' to the crossroads
Trade your life in for some small gold
Money make the world go
Money make these girls go
The block is hot, the world is cold
Your homies is lost souls
They're seein' to the crossroads
Ay
So here's me in the club
Playin' Humphrey Bogart
Things can get really sticky after hours
Bringin' in little extra back-up
Things that gon' make 'em rich
So he's worried, I'ma gonna get killed before he score
No tie, no curtain slack, a house crest
Well don't give it a thought
We're glad you came as you are
We just want you to enjoy your sight
Uh
Money make the world go
Money make these girls go
Block is hot, the world is cold
Your homies is lost souls
Uh, uh
Money make the world go
Money make these girls go
Block is hot, the world is cold
Your homies is lost souls
Might see it at a crossroad
Trade your life, offer some small gold
She cryin' in the Rolls but this the life she chose
Can't be so naive, you seein' that Ice on me
You know what that mean
You know this life and what it bring
Now is you really tryna be a team?
Really tryna win them championship ranks
It's not a easy thing, though a breeze it seems
I get high on the beats and interpret my dreams
I find motivation in everythin', it's the life of a king
The crown is heavy G
Niggas risk anythin' to be, seen
In pictures next to niggas that they figure, wear some green
They worse than bitches, the coldest gold diggers
Smoke a whole ounce wit' ya then kill ya
But that's yo nigga (That's yo nigga)
Money make the world go
Money make these girls go
Block is hot, the world is cold
Your homies is lost souls
Seein' to the crossroads
Trade your life in, for some small gold
She cryin' in the Rolls but this the life she chose
G-side
The end, the chef
Smoke weed in it
I don't post 'em in your pictures
You can keep a secret, we can always kick it
I told her rule number one, don't talk about me 'round here
That shit they have suspicious
Hands switchin' on chef highway, def
Lose lips sink ships
Money make the world go
Money make these girls go
The block is hot, the world is cold
Your homies is lost souls
They're seein' to the crossroads
Trade your life in for some small gold
Money make the world go
Money make these girls go
The block is hot, the world is cold
Your homies is lost souls
They're seein' to the crossroads
Ay
So here's me in the club
Playin' Humphrey Bogart
Things can get really sticky after hours
Bringin' in little extra back-up
Things that gon' make 'em rich
So he's worried, I'ma gonna get killed before he score
Credits
Writer(s): Justin Scott, Cameron Justin Thierry, Richard Lazard
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
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