Teksty:
Fred Money

ching Do the math baby, do the math, Ch-ching Do the math baby (The curse, the curse) Do the math baby (The curse, the curse) It's the curse of money

the older niggas they told us You gotta get down fo' yo hustle Got glocks to show you this muscle Get the money, little nigga, don't struggle That's

, 13's and the kings They greens in the pen Steady duckin the police, ain't a friend Til they take me to hang and they fill me with lead Like Fred Hampton

that's where it all begun We do it for the money, we don't rap for fun Five dolla's fo' a tape, Too Short and Freddy B Money in my pocket's all I ever

's strong Fred Benz, Freddy B Oaktown, a bitch don't sleep A motherfuckin' mack, that's what I am Taxin' a bitch like Uncle Sam She pays the tax, Fred

feelin' like I would do whatever it takes To have a car and a woman in a couple of states 'Cause I'm a professional, and you couldn't knock it Because I had to keep some money

Nate Dizzle, Fred Rizzle Put the pieces to the pizzle All the ladies who like sex like I do Come up to my room, I'm gon' give it to you All my homies

What's crackin'?) Look it's on wit deez niggas (what?) Hey CJ nigga I just found this nigga Fred fucked up (slow down, nigga) on the porch (Fred?) Hey

counting stacks than stuck in the county, washing the dishes Or washing drawers in the pen ? I had to go pay the correct correctional officer to walk him in Bail money