Fo Da Money Lyrics by Coup, The

Fo Da Money 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 dis 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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