Juvenile – Cash Money Gorilla Lyrics

[Verse 1: Mannie Fresh]
Cash money niggas straight cookin that shit
Bitches on the corner straight hookin’ that shit
See, ass dummy niggas love bussin at shit
But automatic weapons straight bustin’ that shit
NOPD, gon yellow tape’em tonight
Rose funeral home gon’ wake em’ tonight
It’s 12 o’clock midnight on the uptown street
Two thugged out niggas, hot toting that heat
Rhino bullets yall, fingers on the trigga
Ain’t scared to pull it yall
Get ya bones & ya homes, lock em’ up yo shit
Put ya kids on the floor before the click-clacks spit
Ride witcho shit, ready, load it and cock
If a nigga try to test ya, then clear the whole block
Shoot 1st, ask questions last
If ya ask questions, wind up on ya ass
Since the beginning, niggas scream “Killa!”
I bust fuckin back, cause I’m motherfuckin’ realer
Government issued, .9 nina fuckin’ milli
But if you fuckin push I’mma show yo ass gorilla
[Hook: Juvenile](x4)
Cause Imma killa-la-la-la
Cash Money Gorilla-la-la-la
[Verse 2: Juvenile]
Nigga whats the use in you havin’ cocaine and you can’t move it? You gon’ know what you don’t know
When you losing yo legs
The beef is frozen, cause I know to keep foolishness dead
We used to be duckin’ blue ones
Now we duckin’ big reds
Rude boy was lookin, but I ain’t know why
I told’em they got it uptown
He told me he workin’ with sticky green, under 600 a pounnnnd
Now watch me, go head again
Continue with shot calling
And we pushin’ a Benz
Wanna see all my people and my patnas ballin’
CMB rollin ova every block haulin’ (Haulin’)
Cause they some…
[Hook 2: Juvenile]
Killa-la-la-la’s
Cash Money Gorilla-la-la-la’s
Call me some Killa-la-la-la’s
Cash Money Gorilla-la-la-la’s
Call me the killa-la-la-la
Cash Money Gorilla-la-la-la
[Verse 3: Baby (Birdman)]
Nigga I ain’t gon’ never get enough of this game spittin’
Fuckin, drinkin champagne, and duckin haters and snitches
And pluckin’ at these niggas when they get outta line
And fuckin’ these hoes every chance I get some free time
Ain’t none of that come between me, gettin’ on the grind
Cause I’m bout my cheese, playboy at all times
3 bricks at nine
And nigga I need every bit of my $27,000 don’t be short not one dime
Now, you know how ya nigga’ll play ya
Will take hunnids off the top, only ya round could fade ya
I’m worth a million on my life; dead
I’m worth more here but if I die, playboy my family straight
I gotta habit of shootin’ them bones
I got it going on, and I put 50 G’s on the table
Won’t ya match it homie? What’s the use in you sayin’ you ballin, you can’t prove it? What’s the use of you talkin’ about it, you don’t it? Niggas don’ fled, with my mother I’m thinkin’ about bussin his head
Come round the corner with the K
Now what did you say? What’s the use in you havin’ a brain and you can’t use it? I love dollars but I rather play with thousands
I make mills and fuckin’ hoes in these public houses
I had so much money till it feared me
I wonder one day if them white folks come and get me
I love to floss and shine in the day time
But I rather ride low low, with limousine in the night time
[Hook 1,2: Juvenile]
[Outro: Juvenile]
Yea, yea
If my beef come imma march nigga step
If ya fuck with me imma march nigga step
Play with my people Imma march nigga step
Disrespect the Magnolia Imma march nigga step
Play with the CMB, bouta march nigga step, march nigga step