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Blood Money lyrics

Performers MO3Finesse2Tymes

Blood Money song lyrics by MO3 official

Blood Money is a song in English

Bitch, I'm Osama three lives
BG4L that's on gang (uh)
I just- (two of 'em)
Why, why, why, why

Keep it on a leash, now I keep it on the low
When it's smoke, I'ma sco', gotta take one nigga
Body bag for the opp, got a lot off top
Bitch, I'm walk 'em down Tre, better not play with 'em (yeah)
I told her believe in me
Break a bitch for a whip, no lie, I'ma keep gettin' richer (Skrrt)
Give a fuck 'bout your gang, it's me and my niggas (yeah)
Put that on gang, just me and my hitters
Want a house out in Cali', tell 'em I slept on a pallet
Bought a P, buss down, no cappin' (yeah)
FN in the cabinet (yeah)
Lil' Tre, they can't help it, he bad, lil' bitch
Don't he look like his daddy? (yeah)
Ready to walk 'em down, we gon' hit 'em up in traffic
Stalk 'em down, walk 'em down, throw away the ratchet
Oh, Lil Tre 'bout that action? (Baow)
Eighth grade at school with this tool in my Micky D's race car jacket (yeah)
Live the life of a savage (what?)
Why would you think that I'm average?
I know you heard I be spazzin' (huh?), better go ask 'em (yeah)
Duck tape, chrome Glock, cut' em up, nigga, I'm a cutthroat assassin (yeah)
Bet it on me when I roll these dice (dice)
Strap on me, nah, ain't nothin' nice (nah)
Buss down Rollie, I don't need no ice (yeah)
New AP, don't need no lights, oh, yeah, yeah (what?)

I got blood money on my conscience (on my conscience)
And I got dirty bodies on this chopper (on this chopper)
I spend dirty money on my partners (why, why, why, why, why, why)
I just put this rifle on my Bible (that's on gang, gang)
I got blood money on my conscience (blood money on my conscience)
And I got dirty bodies on this chopper (why, why, why)
I spend dirty money on my partners (why, why, why, why)
I just put this rifle on my Bible

When I talk to moms, I thank her
It was like God sent me an angel
She be like, "Try to avoid the opps, but, baby, they get in your way, stank 'em'" (that's gangster)
I rather I see you in jail than dead
So fuck the feds, I keep one in the head (the head)
Fight who? I'll never be Craig (never)
Don't push me, I'm already on the edge
Ain't even gotta expose them niggas, that's just a image
Nigga know you ain't kill 'em (we know that)
I told Big A to be cool, he really wan' run 'em down
And stand over them niggas, ain't worth it (they ain't)
Real talk, bruh, we live in a circus (they clowns)
I told you the fake ones gon' drown
Go down when real niggas come to the surface (yeah, I told you)
My BM, she get in her feelings and run to the internet promotin' opps (huh?)
A week later, come back apologizin'
Man, I swear this bitch tryna get popped (she tryna get popped with the opps)
Oh, I'm traumatized? Quit playin' (quit playin')
Better watch that lil' shit you be sayin' (alright)
And I still give her money and conversation
If I don't, I won't see my lil' man, damn (I won't see my lil' man, damn)

I got blood money on my conscience (on my conscience)
And I got dirty bodies on this chopper (on this chopper)
I spend dirty money on my partners (why, why, why, why, why, why)
I just put this rifle on my Bible (that's on gang, gang)
I got blood money on my conscience (blood money on my conscience)
And I got dirty bodies on this chopper (why, why, why)
I spend dirty money on my partners (why, why, why, why)
I just put this rifle on my Bible
Lyrics copyright : legal lyrics licensed by Lyricfind.
No unauthorized reproduction of lyric.
Writers: Melvin Noble Jr., Ricky Hampton
Copyright: EMPIRE PUBLISHING

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