Artist: TQ f/ E-40 Album: They Never Saw Me Coming Song: Gotta Make That Money Typed by: TwstdFlava@aol.com 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 Biotch!!!