Jim Jones - Na Na (we Get Money Like) lyrics

Dipset As we proceed What have we here (take that take that) It's 0-9 motherf**er (one thing to do) We get money motherf**er (yo) I pulled off like na na na na na na They would of tried some bullsh** but a n***a had the blamer (try again) They only got me cause they caught it on a camera (ow) They wanna ball but they ain't got no stamina (they need it) They said damn man you looking like Pac I said nah, not alive, man I'm looking like Jones (cappo) Besides I put money on your skull and bones And keep it low watch what you say up on those f**ing phones Be quiet Touchdown And get ya a** hung the f** up just like a bunch of clothes Hey ma, we stretch work like you touch your toes And in the middle of July we got that summer snow I got em snowboarding in August And I love a pretty b**h but the Porsche look gorgeous (you see it) Harlem is one big ski slalom I guess the Hill is like the Swiss Alps, we bring them whips out [Chorus] We getting money like na, na, na, na, na, na Waiting at the flash throwing money at the cameras Twin turbs out speeding with the scanners Breeze past the cops screaming na, na, na, na, na, na We getting money like na, na, na, na, na, na Looking at my a** know you wish he had a camera We getting money like na, na, na, na, na, na Drop top at the light screaming life is good. If there's money on my head I hope they got a receipt Cool your old a** off cause it's hot on these streets (be easy) I got dogs and they not on a leash So you hope you understand Do you copy? capesh? (comprende?) At this point I don't think they could take it Sharks in the water they wont make it to safety (he drown) And even though that we been getting cake And now the money taste sweet like pastry, they hate me (back at you) Now tell me how I look Would you rather live life like me or by the book? (you get it?) Sheesh, we are what we are Make the wrong move will put your f*ggot a** in the ER He's not gonna make it clear? Flat line If it's red apples falling hit me on the bat line (Jones) I'm back for mine, some more black flyin' The fliest n***a you know that got a knack for crime Nana [Chorus] And what you do n***a? I cop cars out the future Pocket so fat like Raspusha I think I'm getting used to Lifestyle rich and conspicuous Chicks want to get with us (ow) The feds taking flicks of us (say cheese) They all know I put on for Harlem Tell rich Broadway I took it up another level (God bless 'em) I took 80, blew it on a Beezle Bought the new Fiskar flew it through the ghetto (15th st) The definition of opulence The j**els dripping we dropping on top and popping sh** (splash) Who would think that this kid from the projects Get his neck so cold you would think he's lethargic (I'm froze up) The wrist look like hypothermia set in (what) Pick a club night that the burner don't get in (I can't recall that) We pop champagne until the club let out (and) I drink and I f** and then I piss a n***a rent out [Chorus] You know the rules n***a Fly high or get flew over Roll with us or get rolled over Ain't nothing change Just the decimal point motherf**er You get the point? Money money money Don't make dollars don't make sense Jones