Forever M.C. and It's Different - King Kong lyrics

Make money, make money, money, money Take money, take money, money, money Make money, make money, money, money Take money, take money, money, money I'm King Kong, this my theme song With Sky on the hook, we touch Kareems Soul Your team's on, homie dream on In the movie about pussies you play the lead role Sensitive rapper, oh sensitive rappers We meant to get active, we interact with k**ers and factors We chillin' with trappers, we in the back with infamous jackers And infinite clappers roast to the back We get the sh** crackin' exactly like that The streets give me a hundred dollar credit Keep it one hundred, nothin sweet like a f**ing diabetic And Hip Hop ain't dead, but radio programmers should be f** it, I just said it, nothing I regretted, unapologetic This whole rap industry's like a survival quest And the idiot sitting behind the desk is your final test First they'll censor you and then tax you like the IRS Jerk me for my money you better buy a vest You better have a iron chest It's like a couple of pervs with ear fetishes f** what you've heard, you're ear-relevant Whether juggling birds or hustling words For mathematics, we 'bout action, that's numbers and verbs Yeah Oh! Oh! Oh! Ahhhh. We gon get it. (What?) Give it to em (Yeah) We gon get it (What) Now give it to em Make money, make money, money, money Take money, take money, money, money I'm a legendary rapper, clap a TEC quick Blastin' at your baby ba**inet Snap a neck, snatch a necklace All I see is money, p**y, fame, power Sixty minute flights through them rain showers That's because the plane's ours 'Bout to turn these money stacks to algebra And shotgun your pa**enger You're about to take a dirt nap like Africa And we the f**ing money team, read it and weap Ask me why I'm leaving the D, I'm 'bout to weave in heat Modesty is the least, why respect is just a catch 22 Give it to get it or expect it, just catch 22 They call me King Karma, I've seen crowns layed down in extreme carnage Put mean garmets between me and armor And I ain't even rhyming man, I'm just being honest man I would have your body lying in your home While your soul flying to the promise land b**hes acting like I gotta go bone, 'cause I'm in they stomach like sonograms Oh! Oh! Oh! Ahhhh. We gon get it. (What?) Give it to em (Yeah) We gon get it (What) Now give it to em Make money, make money, money, money Take money, take money, money, money Nobody talk a n***a like I'm in a wheelchair You stay Tryna walk a n***a, I'm from New York n***a Pull out, bang em with the hook n***a Bom bom bom, outlined in chalk n***a Stick a fork in n***a I'm in the gym jumpin' rope, liftin' weights, spidey mags, speedbags you can't cope Every word that I've ever said, you hang on to it And even though I said it, it wasn't truth, ya ain't gon do it Cause I, write in my books cause my books is what I say And what I say is my life, cause the life took away [?] hurts so long, spit it from the heart from the start, can't go wrong Ahhhh. We gon get it. (What?) Give it to em (Yeah) We gon get it (What) Now give it to em