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Money In The Mattress
Elcamino
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Lyrics
Original
Translation
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Uh
La música de Harry Fraud
Only young nigga you know, that still keep a bundle for the fiends
Pullin' up, hittin' licks in whips from overseas
Only pull my dick out to piss on money trees and bad bitches
You wouldn't understand, kid, 'cause you never had bitches
I played the back block in the Porsche (Skrrt)
Made the power move it too, now we in the forefront
Was kids watchin' Scooby-Doo
It ain't about what you know, it's who you knew
I still pray like a Judas do, extended the clip
Fuck it, long as the shit removable, it stay on the hip (Word)
Pants saggin', got my bitch baggin' up work in an orderly fashion
Quick turn at the shade, daddy rappin' was static
I was gettin' a bag before I was established
Beams, clips, and bullets, I still keep the gadgets
Yachts, Bentleys, and jewels, shit you couldn't imagine
Ahk give me the tool, I'm finna let 'em have it
I'm still a king, I sip Henny out the chalice (Word)
In the 600 Benz, smokin' they asses
Mixin' Runtz and grunts, I'm smokin' gases
If I die, shit, the money in the mattress
I'm from a block where the fiends say
The work hit oh so good (Oh so good)
Even when it's slow, shit, we movin' on the low
Man, I'm always in the hood (I'm always in the hood)
I was that broke nigga, I ain't have a
Clue, lettin' days go by (Days go by)
Clutchin' on my grip, still heavy on the hip
It's finna be a homicide (It's finna be a homicide)
Uh, ayo
Before I had a bank account, I had mattress money
My first check, had to have my bitch cash it for me
Sold crack 'fore this rap shit was mastered fully
Made cash from cookies, ski mask, and hoodies, huh
Pounds on top of pounds like they was hashtags
A four-pound and forty pounds in a trash bag
Shot up his 6 series, made him crash fast
Put a long arm to his 6 like it's half-past, huh
You flash cash that belong to another man
Your whole stash could fit inside a rubber band
Go kick that woke shit to another man
I'm worried 'bout the motherload, not the motherland
Last time I had beef, he deceased
If it wasn't for police, I wouldn't leave the streets
I'm Michael Corleone of the East
Settin' up a meetin' with the boss to
Kill him and leave the piece, trust
I'm from a block where the fiends say
The work hit oh so good (Oh so good)
Even when it's slow, shit, we movin' on the low
Man, I'm always in the hood (I'm always in the hood)
I was that broke nigga, I ain't have a
Clue, lettin' days go by (Days go by)
Clutchin' on my grip, still heavy on the hip
It's finna be a homicide (It's finna be a homicide)