Lyrics About the Money (Mix Version) - T.I. , Young Thug

(We got London On Da Track)
Whoa
Yeah, man, T.I.P. in this motherfucker with me, nigga
To the max with it
Racks
I count six shots

Bustin' out the bando (woo)
A nigga jewelry real metal like a can opener (bling)
I went from rags to riches, to a feature with Tip (woo)
I went from Smart Card, to a bitch with some smart lips (skrrt)
And the F&N make my hip limp (gah)
I'm goin' fishin' with these little bitty shrimp dimps (woo)
And my bank roll got a big dip (woo)
She gon' bring it on a big ship (sheesh, sheesh), uh

Quite trill, no QuikTrip (sheesh, sheesh)
I got thugs in the alley, know Tip here (woo)
And she just wanna have a good day (what?)
Smoke way more weed than a guy in L.A (damn)
Damn, I'll hold them birds 'til next May (goddamn)
Never let 'em fly away (what?)
I heard, hey buddy
Listen what my nigga Tip say, hey

If it ain't about the money (yeah)
Don't be blowin' me up, nigga, I ain't gettin' up (brr)
If it ain't about the money (hello?)
Ain't no use in you ringin' my line, stop wastin' my time (bye, bruh)
If it ain't about the money
Nah, I can't even hear what you say, I ain't finna do shit (I ain't finna do shit, my nigga)
If it ain't about the money
Bitch, you can miss me with it
Bitch nigga, miss me with it, turn it (hey, go, tell 'em)

I pack an 11, I pack an 11, ayy (boom, turn it)
I'm ridin' in a gator, my shoes are Giuseppe, ooh (turn up, uh, watcha, what they say? Gah)
I'm slime like the reverend, I shoot at the reverend, ayy (bah, uh nigga, boom, what?)
Pants out the grocery store, they stuffed with lettuce, ayy (Bankroll Mafia, go)
She try make the extras, I tell on these bitches, hey (hustle, gah, sheesh, sheesh)
When it's 'bout time to pay, I'ma bail on these bitches, ayy (yuh, uh uh, skrrt)

Ayy, ayy, ayy, what you think we in the neighborhood for?
Standin' at the corner store with a pocket full of dough
I'll be damned if a nigga wife a hood ho (woo)
Learned that from UGK back in "Pocket Full of Stones"

Put your money down, I could buck a hard 4
You playin' with it, I'ma send 'em through your car door
My watch flooded, shit sick, got Parvo
I'm doin' it for black and yellow, free Hardo
The head honcho, nigga, no Tonto, nigga
I'm quick to put some bricks in a Bronco, nigga
Niggas talk shit, well, I don't respond to no nigga
No murder, no dough, no convo, nigga

If it ain't about the money
Don't be blowin' me up, nigga, I ain't gettin' up
If it ain't about the money
Ain't no use in you ringin' my line, stop wastin' my time
If it ain't about the money
Nah, I can't even hear what you say, I ain't finna do shit
If it ain't about the money
Bitch, you can miss me with it
Bitch nigga, miss me with it, turn it (go, tell 'em)

I pack an 11, I pack an 11, ayy (boom, turn it)
I'm ridin' in a gator, my shoes are Giuseppe, ooh (turn up, uh, watcha, what they say? Gah)
I'm slime like the reverend, I shoot at the reverend, ayy (bah, uh nigga, boom, what?)
Pants out the grocery store, they stuffed with lettuce, ayy (bankroll Mafia, go)
She try make the extras, I tell on these bitches, hey (hustle, gah)
When it's 'bout time to pay, I'ma bail on these bitches, ayy (yuh, uh uh)

What you think we in the neighborhood for?
Standin' in the trap, slangin' good blow (cap)
Them '80s babies used to slang that crack
Buy a stolen car while he bang that AK

If you ever took a loss, better bring that back
Catch up witcha, betcha he gon' blow your brains 'bout that
Ba-bow! Ayy, know you better be (better be)
On your best behavior when addressin' me
Because, bye-gones, we don't let 'em be
Niggas disrespect me, I'ma catch a felony
For real, if you listen I can get you paid
But not interested in shit you say

If it ain't about the money (nigga)
Don't be blowin' me up, nigga, I ain't gettin' up
If it ain't about the money
Ain't no use in you ringin' my line, stop wastin' my time
If it ain't about the money
Nah, I can't even hear what you say, I ain't finna do shit
If it ain't about the money
Bitch, you can miss me with it
Bitch nigga, miss me with it, turn it

I pack an 11, I pack an 11, ayy (boom, turn it)
I'm ridin' in a gator, my shoes are Giuseppe, ooh (turn up, uh, watcha, what they say? Gah)
I'm slime like the reverend, I shoot at the reverend, ayy (bah, uh nigga, boom, what?)
Pants out the grocery store, they stuffed with lettuce, ayy (Bankroll Mafia, go)
She try make the extras, I tell on these bitches, hey (hustle, gah)
When it's 'bout time to pay, I'ma bail on these bitches, ayy (yuh, uh uh)

Ayy, ayy, ayy, what you think we in the neighborhood for?
Standin' at the corner store with a pocket full of dough
I'll be damned if a nigga wife a hood ho
Learned that from UGK back in "Pocket Full of Stones," nigga