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Correct Fo Da Money Lyrics
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Artists: C
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Coup
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Correct Fo Da Money
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Lyrics:
[Boots] Ahhhhhhh yesss, ah-heh Tell me somethin Were you, about to make a decision? Was it, one of... Those decisions? Ya know, when ya, gotta decide, between What's good, for you, and what's good, for the struggle Well before you sellout, The Coup wants to tell you a lil' story E-Roc, kick it [E-Roc] Pressure, is gettin to my dome See, I need some food for my little boy's tummy Pulled up a chair just to think about my situation Don't have a job, cause jackin is the occupation Fuck the system, you know that it's all wrong I got my gauge, yeah now my mission's on Checked on my baby, good he was sound asleep Cause money was my thoughts as I began to creep Down the street the corner sto', was on my mind Freeze! With the sounds of clips was in my behind I turned around but befo' I could pull my trigger In they ass, on the ground, laid another nigga I was trippin, slippin labelled as a dummy But can you blame me, I did it for da mo-ah-money *Chorus* M-O-N, N-E-Y (repeat 2X) Broke as a; broke as a sucka! (repeat all 4X) [E-Roc] Back on the streets I thought I wouldn't survive So I'm bustin my ass on this nine to five Flippin patties all day when the place is hot Gettin paid peanuts, in the burger shop Now everybody wants to know the deal, is this brother real Can I feed my family off of a Happy Meal? I had to stop cause this shit ain't for E-Roc I threw down my time card and started slangin rocks For a brother this is some'in you can't beat My cash is flowin, now I'm bringin home the meat I'm feelin good sellin crack to a fiend Don't give a fuck about his luck, ya know what I mean? People trip, but they don't understand that A devil's land, ain't no black foe a black man Now it's a shame, but who's to blame? I got a baby with a life and no future to gain, yeah the money *Chorus* [E-Roc] I remember the time when I was six The American Dream was everybody gets, rich But yo, a fact for all to know Four hundred years has passed, and we still po' He ain't my Uncle, but Sam know what he's talkin about If you wanna get paid, sell your people out But not me I'd rather do a crime Deep in my rhyme; is it better for a black man to do time? To the red white and blue I don't give a fuck Because I live and die, just to make a buck So I'm that mother-fucker That rob his daddy, and threw his ass in the gutter And I'm that fool That sold his kids cocaine at school But Jack's an attorney So I'ma do what I do, cause he's makin all the motherfuckin... *Gun shots* [Boots] I believe.. Truthfully, we all gonna die someday So, die hustlin for yourself Or die hustlin for millions of your people The choice is yours, choose your fate You can get with this, or you can get with that We out *Chorus*
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