C-Bo - Kaviealstars lyrics

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C-Bo - Kaviealstars lyrics

*(Otis & Shug)* Gotta get my money! Gotta get my money! Gotta get it... ! *(Chorus)* Diamonds an clothes (diamonds an clothes) Money an hoes (money an hoes) Make lotta doe (make lotta doe) For them thugs an Kavieal's Mobbin' a Range (mobbin' a Range) Stackin my change (stackin my change) Cuz it ain't no thang (cuz it ain't no thang) Gettin it to me's how we play Verse 1 *(Bart)* We hit the spot on a Sunday afternoon It's hella hot the homies sellin rocks Actin' a fool Aight, cool You know the rules Linen an j**els But you can catch me in a Lex side lined by the pool The Mobb kind wit no care for the vice My crew was trife Stay influenced for a selectable price The Mobb Life The lime light We balla tight Mercedez an pretty ladies to fill a room full of spikes You b**hes hate it cuz we finally made it First it was famous now it's the world that we out there takin No longer chasin Kamakazi to the world yellin "You cowards jealous!" An wonder why that we all felons I do it better Crack your cerebellum I push a kick to watch my stack develop You playa hatas got me born to swell up On a mission dodgin clips An the Mobb representin It's Kaviealstar's Handle Bar wishes Uh Chorus *(Otis & Shug)* Verse 2 *(C-Bo)* We get the money Mo' money That's how it came Rolex, chains an thangs My mission's to only gain When Otis & Shug sang we get them major change Two live playas on they way to do major thangs Not juss to floss We be the boss Like Kingpin's Me an B.A. in a rag Ferari swingin Wit the connection like the WESTSIDE! On the best side We do it, gotta get the money... right An keep it crackin like Kastro hoes say Money over tricks buy the tons wit no play House party poppin at the Malibu estates Diamond j**-els Big bodies an sails an Navigate's We get them light skinned Dark skinned Short an tall We like them baseball playas you know we knocks 'em all Catch me at home plate, bu*t naked in my drawls Grand slams an home runs they never find the ball We Kavial's! *(Chorus)* Verse 3 *(Bart)* Steppin wit my weapon concentratin on seven Got both of my knees dirty Gamblin Two grand on eleven My n***a hit Yellin out this sh** Shake 'em up better But I'm juss scramblin Handlin My portion of chedda We good fellas Hood fellas Pop the Crist an hop in the six-hundred Cuz ain't question where that b**h runnin I hit 'em an quit 'em Stick 'em an lick 'em But if it's worse enough I bet she pullin my linen My head spinnin Legs bendin It's all splended We all grinnin Cuz havin a ball cuz we all chillin Juss feel the realest Don't need to mention We juss kickin an stick up enough doe to make a livin, livin *(Chorus)* 2x