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Artist: M.M.O.
Album:  All About the Money
Song:   We M.M.O.
Typed by: Cno Evil

[Itchy Fingas Sha]
I got that new Benz truck on them 22's
I hit the club, I'mma slide wit a broad or two
Pop bottles wit the crew, you know how a don do
See the chain in the ring, bitch, admire the crew
It's M.M.O. Officials, so clear the space when we come through
Unless you wanna be that nigga that we run through
Little broccoli on the waist, for your get rich schemes
I got a team, that'll leave you looking like Mitch Green
And get this cream, we plot, sit and scheme
And shit get mean, we got M-16's
And a fiend, that'll lead you right straight to the spot
Same fiend last week, lead you straight to the cops
Believe it or not, I don't a give a fuck you breathing or not
Catch me on your block, you gon' be bleeding a lot
So be easy, while the paramedics loading the cart
Cuz if you breathing, it's a reason, why you won't holding these shots

[Chorus: Trigg-nomm]
We straight pimping in this game
Be bout money for this fame
Twisting 20's when we blaze, we M.M.O.
We got wifeys, we got kids
Cats get sheisty, we push wigs
Ain't no life if we can't live, we M.M.O.

[Trigg-nomm]
I got a band on my pinky, left hand on my twinkie
Bitch I'm the man, why you so stinky
Flow chinky, like I'm high and my eyes low
Speech splur, like I dive in some hydro
Wise growing kilo's in the tombs tank
I'm the cool state, playing cee-lo, taking dudes bank
See I'm a O.G. now, I got full rank
So when the Klik Ga Bow, let's do some more rank
And if I snatch you child, I just called bank
I want the nicest ices, shit that's priceless
I'm into heistless, snipe shit, I likes this
I just fall back and say "I got it"
Or you gon' get a call back, saying I shot it
I'm never spotted, see I'm low like Gary Cole'
Somewhere far, g, in a Ferrari
Fucking a black Barbie, spitting that star street

[Chorus]

[Trigg-nomm]
Yo, what you know about hundred thousand dollar withdrawers
In a villa wit high yellow stillas and no drawers
Four runners, Hummers, Porsches on 24's
Money Makin' Operations, wit no laws
Money Members Only, status in the outdoors
Stash cash indoors, glass for outdoors
Clash wit outlaws, we bash without pause
The last cat you see, before you get wit the lord

[Itchy Fingas Sha]
I bang at your doors, a real nigga get your broad
Front the crib wit the semi automatic four-four
Just waiting, for the right time to get at your whore
Get the info to low lab, where you got kinfolk
Towns in the dressers, rounds and ammunition
And a stolen blue tempers, banging competition
My prediction is, one of ya'll niggas gon' be missing
In the river wit the fishes, or digging your own wit ya

[Chorus]