[Chorus]   You see me on them 24s fuckin tatted up   These suckas hate my guts cause i whip that batter up   Im gettin money boy   Im gettin money boy   Im gettin money boy   Im gettin money boy   I keep a K or a sawed off in my hand   I keep my stacks wrapped up in them rubber bands   Im gettin money boy   Im gettin money boy   Im gettin money boy   Im gettin money boy      They hate my guts hate your guts why?   I be gettin it big   Gotta do it fantastic with fabulous lavoushness   Livin all around me   Eyes are kinda cloudy   600 dollas an O Z   The best trees in cali   Money in my pocket bitch   Wrapped in rubber bands n shit   Call me if ya got a problem get me we can plan some shit   Grab the black mask n shit   Blacked up 4 bags n shit   Cock the 4 5 up towards the sky and lets go mash a trick   Or we can do it old fassion and classic and rent out a club   Bring Wyte and the six for the muthafucka and let us tear it up   Either way we gon get the cheese by doin what we know   Four five to yo eye or a crowded rowdy show      [Chorus]      I get money like bill collecters   I shine like wheel reflectors   You can talk all the trash you want ive been sprayed with hater protector   I been bakin in there for breakfast with steak as the appetizer   And Three Six Mafia just happens to be my financial advisor   I whip black and lay back pop Os and Rolls Royces   I done been up in a movie bitch sequel to choices   I get calls from other movie producers wanna use my music   And you better believe if i let em i get paid for doin it   I be tokin on some killa kill   True and real togethers trill   Considerin im the token whitey will i kill it? yes i will   Lil Wytes the name ya bitch   Put that in yo manuscript   Makin cheese and clockin grip   Im talkin thats as real as it gets      [Chorus]