| 作曲 : Aston, Barker, Farris ... | |
| (feat. Kobe) [Chorus: Kobe] | |
| We out here, trying to get it rain or shine | |
| Cant nobody take what's mine | |
| But people say ... "That they gon try to kill me" | |
| Go hard for mine is all | |
| I know I'm trying to get all this dough | |
| I try to say ... "If you want me come and get me" [Verse 1: Paul Wall] | |
| Early in the morning when the sun come up | |
| I be playing my position, trying to chase a come up | |
| I'm on the corner like little kids waiting for the school bus | |
| I'm reggie bush about my paper man | |
| I gotta rush | |
| I'm chasing | |
| Johnny dame, co vein with diamond crush | |
| I want that | |
| TV Johnny watch, earrings and such | |
| I got my mind focused driving in the fast lane | |
| Apple paint and white seats, looking like a candy cane | |
| I'm running marathons, while these lames running sprints | |
| Been pulling all nighters, all year, and ever since | |
| I'm steady grinding on the rise like | |
| Hunter Pence | |
| Partner this is common sense, stacking up dollars and cents | |
| I'm thinking pickett fence, six rooms, that's on a lake | |
| Long as I keep stacking bread like pancakes | |
| I pray with high stakes, so | |
| I can crawl down like snakes | |
| Trying to eat them | |
| Vincent Anthony steaks, | |
| I gotta get more [Chorus: Kobe] [Verse 2: Paul Wall] | |
| From a Buick to a | |
| Benz, the | |
| American Dream | |
| Riding apple over silver with the insides cream | |
| I got my mind on the foreign so | |
| I hustle some green | |
| And I'm somewhat color struck cuz | |
| I only love green | |
| I'm living the ghetto dream, money, hoes, and cloths | |
| My mind on bankrolls, | |
| I stay up on my toes | |
| See I'm working for that paper chasing after that cash | |
| Overtime punching clocks, | |
| I call it a monster mash | |
| That paper in my vision, so | |
| I grind with precision | |
| A hustler's ambition, to accumulate commission | |
| My eyes is burning cuz | |
| I aint slept in bout a week | |
| And theres no time to eat cuz my body is weak | |
| I'm on the creep, its time for cash stacking, there aint no time for slacking | |
| I'm recking money now, later | |
| I'll be Cadillac'n | |
| I'm packing paper and my pockets over flowing, | |
| To the top is where im goin, my dawg, | |
| I gotta get that money! [Chorus: Kobe] [Verse 3: Paul Wall] | |
| The clock keep on ticking and the count down is on | |
| My paper keep on stacking now it wont be long | |
| I'm king kong of the hustle, using mind with muscle | |
| Putting together plots and schemes like a piece to a puzzle | |
| The boys chasing broads, but | |
| I'm out here stacking bars | |
| Motivated my screw tapes that's in my ipod | |
| My job is all night my hustle is all day | |
| When you throwed in the game, there aint no 401 | |
| K I got a dream like | |
| Dr. King and | |
| Fat Pat, I swing it like peter parker in the | |
| Cadillac, | |
| So now I'm changing up the game like the cleanest bitch | |
| Hood super star with dreams of bein rich, gimme more [Chorus: Kobe] |
| zuo qu : Aston, Barker, Farris ... | |
| feat. Kobe Chorus: Kobe | |
| We out here, trying to get it rain or shine | |
| Cant nobody take what' s mine | |
| But people say ... " That they gon try to kill me" | |
| Go hard for mine is all | |
| I know I' m trying to get all this dough | |
| I try to say ... " If you want me come and get me" Verse 1: Paul Wall | |
| Early in the morning when the sun come up | |
| I be playing my position, trying to chase a come up | |
| I' m on the corner like little kids waiting for the school bus | |
| I' m reggie bush about my paper man | |
| I gotta rush | |
| I' m chasing | |
| Johnny dame, co vein with diamond crush | |
| I want that | |
| TV Johnny watch, earrings and such | |
| I got my mind focused driving in the fast lane | |
| Apple paint and white seats, looking like a candy cane | |
| I' m running marathons, while these lames running sprints | |
| Been pulling all nighters, all year, and ever since | |
| I' m steady grinding on the rise like | |
| Hunter Pence | |
| Partner this is common sense, stacking up dollars and cents | |
| I' m thinking pickett fence, six rooms, that' s on a lake | |
| Long as I keep stacking bread like pancakes | |
| I pray with high stakes, so | |
| I can crawl down like snakes | |
| Trying to eat them | |
| Vincent Anthony steaks, | |
| I gotta get more Chorus: Kobe Verse 2: Paul Wall | |
| From a Buick to a | |
| Benz, the | |
| American Dream | |
| Riding apple over silver with the insides cream | |
| I got my mind on the foreign so | |
| I hustle some green | |
| And I' m somewhat color struck cuz | |
| I only love green | |
| I' m living the ghetto dream, money, hoes, and cloths | |
| My mind on bankrolls, | |
| I stay up on my toes | |
| See I' m working for that paper chasing after that cash | |
| Overtime punching clocks, | |
| I call it a monster mash | |
| That paper in my vision, so | |
| I grind with precision | |
| A hustler' s ambition, to accumulate commission | |
| My eyes is burning cuz | |
| I aint slept in bout a week | |
| And theres no time to eat cuz my body is weak | |
| I' m on the creep, its time for cash stacking, there aint no time for slacking | |
| I' m recking money now, later | |
| I' ll be Cadillac' n | |
| I' m packing paper and my pockets over flowing, | |
| To the top is where im goin, my dawg, | |
| I gotta get that money! Chorus: Kobe Verse 3: Paul Wall | |
| The clock keep on ticking and the count down is on | |
| My paper keep on stacking now it wont be long | |
| I' m king kong of the hustle, using mind with muscle | |
| Putting together plots and schemes like a piece to a puzzle | |
| The boys chasing broads, but | |
| I' m out here stacking bars | |
| Motivated my screw tapes that' s in my ipod | |
| My job is all night my hustle is all day | |
| When you throwed in the game, there aint no 401 | |
| K I got a dream like | |
| Dr. King and | |
| Fat Pat, I swing it like peter parker in the | |
| Cadillac, | |
| So now I' m changing up the game like the cleanest bitch | |
| Hood super star with dreams of bein rich, gimme more Chorus: Kobe |
| zuò qǔ : Aston, Barker, Farris ... | |
| feat. Kobe Chorus: Kobe | |
| We out here, trying to get it rain or shine | |
| Cant nobody take what' s mine | |
| But people say ... " That they gon try to kill me" | |
| Go hard for mine is all | |
| I know I' m trying to get all this dough | |
| I try to say ... " If you want me come and get me" Verse 1: Paul Wall | |
| Early in the morning when the sun come up | |
| I be playing my position, trying to chase a come up | |
| I' m on the corner like little kids waiting for the school bus | |
| I' m reggie bush about my paper man | |
| I gotta rush | |
| I' m chasing | |
| Johnny dame, co vein with diamond crush | |
| I want that | |
| TV Johnny watch, earrings and such | |
| I got my mind focused driving in the fast lane | |
| Apple paint and white seats, looking like a candy cane | |
| I' m running marathons, while these lames running sprints | |
| Been pulling all nighters, all year, and ever since | |
| I' m steady grinding on the rise like | |
| Hunter Pence | |
| Partner this is common sense, stacking up dollars and cents | |
| I' m thinking pickett fence, six rooms, that' s on a lake | |
| Long as I keep stacking bread like pancakes | |
| I pray with high stakes, so | |
| I can crawl down like snakes | |
| Trying to eat them | |
| Vincent Anthony steaks, | |
| I gotta get more Chorus: Kobe Verse 2: Paul Wall | |
| From a Buick to a | |
| Benz, the | |
| American Dream | |
| Riding apple over silver with the insides cream | |
| I got my mind on the foreign so | |
| I hustle some green | |
| And I' m somewhat color struck cuz | |
| I only love green | |
| I' m living the ghetto dream, money, hoes, and cloths | |
| My mind on bankrolls, | |
| I stay up on my toes | |
| See I' m working for that paper chasing after that cash | |
| Overtime punching clocks, | |
| I call it a monster mash | |
| That paper in my vision, so | |
| I grind with precision | |
| A hustler' s ambition, to accumulate commission | |
| My eyes is burning cuz | |
| I aint slept in bout a week | |
| And theres no time to eat cuz my body is weak | |
| I' m on the creep, its time for cash stacking, there aint no time for slacking | |
| I' m recking money now, later | |
| I' ll be Cadillac' n | |
| I' m packing paper and my pockets over flowing, | |
| To the top is where im goin, my dawg, | |
| I gotta get that money! Chorus: Kobe Verse 3: Paul Wall | |
| The clock keep on ticking and the count down is on | |
| My paper keep on stacking now it wont be long | |
| I' m king kong of the hustle, using mind with muscle | |
| Putting together plots and schemes like a piece to a puzzle | |
| The boys chasing broads, but | |
| I' m out here stacking bars | |
| Motivated my screw tapes that' s in my ipod | |
| My job is all night my hustle is all day | |
| When you throwed in the game, there aint no 401 | |
| K I got a dream like | |
| Dr. King and | |
| Fat Pat, I swing it like peter parker in the | |
| Cadillac, | |
| So now I' m changing up the game like the cleanest bitch | |
| Hood super star with dreams of bein rich, gimme more Chorus: Kobe |
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