Warren G - Fast Money lyrics

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Warren G - Fast Money lyrics

[Chorus (Repeat 2X): Warren G] Fast money, might be ya last money Quick to blast for the cash money Squabbin' over past money Lookin' for spots to stash money Fast money, might be ya last money [Verse 1: Dutches] Every time I meet a n***aro, they a** wanna hit And you tell them 'HELL NO!,' they a** go to talkin' sh** I never gave a flyin' f** on how these n***as feelin' Just because I let him eat the p**y now he think we dealin' Slow down honey love, I think you better pump yo' brakes If you had that feelin' that we was makin' love, that feelin's fake My p**y's tight, that's why you n***as want to get up in it Just to talk to me it cost a fee so n***a won't you spend it Never trust these fools hollerin' they single b**hes, dont be stupid, they be lyin' You know these n***as mingle You b**hes got it bad f**in' n***as on the first night Then hollerin' that sh** about how a man don't treat 'em right b**hes be talkin' about f**in' n***as, I'm buckin' n***as To get closer to me is some lucky n***as with some scrilla n***as gotta break me off a lil somethin' Playas gotta have that money pumpin' Before we do some grindin' and bumpin' [Chorus] [Verse 2: Mac Dre] I'm hungry for the cabbage, a swavage who need the bank I done sold everything from weed to crank But now I need to think, how many of my n***as got k**ed Blood spilled, done dealed, cap peeled, for that fast scrill My past will, pin a picture of criminal conduct 'Cause, n***a, when I'm stuck, my trigger comes unstuck I don't give a f**, n***a, life is a hustle If you wanna come up, you got to flex that muscle n***as wit little hearts get little bread Some n***as is satisfied with puss and a little head 'Til it's been said, f** the b**h, get rich Be about it, not without it, n***a get yo' grits But be cautious 'cause it's crosses Get caught up, brought up on charges and some take losses Do your thang, sell dope, hit licks Sometimes it's mandatory to get them quick grits [Chorus] [Verse 3: Kokane] My n***a Mac Dre sent a kite to me He was in Lompoc, I was Tehachapi The letter read: When we hook up we gonna have the fat sacks (We gon' sell these raps like crack) n***a, I make big bread from the night time 'til it's sunny Real gangsters don't brag about money n***a, this game I would love tall deals Changin' our name from the mafia to corporate ('Cause it's like four in the mornin' in the kitchen, cookin' up dope on the grill) n***a, I keeps it real [Chorus 4X]