Gotta Make That Money (Featuring E-40) Lyrics

Yeah, uh, mm, give it to me 
Mmmmm, yeah 
Yeah yeah 
Mm, no no no no 

Seems like every night, right before I go to sleep 
I say a little prayer to the Lord that he keep me 
I used to be the kind of nigga that didn't give a fuck about nobody 
The slightest little thing would make me mad 
Especially if it involved my money 

And I can't tell you 'bout the next man 
But I love pullin' up in big sedans 
Wit all my niggas in a caravan 
Holla if ya hear me 

Now I'd love to break ya, bring ya down 
And take you back again 
But that would take too much time 
And I gotta hit the streets again 

1 - And even if the sun don't shine, I'll still be hustlin' 
Gotta get that money, make that money 
Keep it comin', if it takes all night, can't be strugglin' 
Somebody come help me 
Can ya tell me why is slangin' always on my mind? 
Must be buggin' 
I guess they figured I would quit and they could get me 
If they tapped my line 
Don't mean nothin' 
I'll still be hustlin' 

Now I hate to be the one to tell ya, but I don't mind 
Niggas can hate if they want to 
And I'm still gon' get mine 
Yes, I still be ridin' in a SC on dubs 
And I won't be seen at none of the clubs 
And uh, all your women would know who I was 
(And that you wouldn't like) And that you wouldn't like 

If everybody kept they mind on gettin' they skrilla 
Won't be no time to fuck with mine, so won't be no killin' 
I'll just sit back and recline, smoke this Philly 
And keep my fingers laced with diamonds like Big Willie 

But for now, catch me on Compton Avenue 
With a handful of hundreds and a strap or two 
Puttin' it down for my niggas like they told me to 
You need some candy, so won't you come thru 

Repeat 1 

[E-40] 
Sometimes I'm suited up 
Sometimes I'm bummy, lookin' like a crook 
Hair all nappy and wild - we call it the full nuk 
Mashin', mobbin' and thrashin' 
Woopers, horns and tweeters blastin' 
Throbbin', hoggin' and doggin' 
Godzilla ballin' 
When it's money callin'? War-rank 
Just ride your runners fool 
Be 'bout your bank 
Sittin' fat like ? 
All about my money, duffle bags full of scratch 
Artillery fire arms and gats 
Reep my mill, cap my feddy, get my bread 
? on my tail, but I'm tryin' for them, but they want me dead 
Cuz I made it out the game without a clue or trace 
Used to sell that bass 
Rock cavvy candy, ?????? 
Never had to stop, enemies on the block, they knew it (they knew it) 
As far as I was concerned, ? man I do it 
Check it out 
Money schemin' 
Prince Albert, Chocolate Philly, Glocks Garcia Vegas 
Black and Miles on the pack again (yes) 
What you know about that? 
TQ and E-40 Fonzarelli a.k.a. Charlie Hustle, easy 
Bitch!!!