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Cash Over Lyrics

from War & Peace Vol. 1: The War Disc

"Cash Over" is track #2 on the album War & Peace Vol. 1: The War Disc. It was written by O'shea Jackson;ryan Garner;jr. Hunt.
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"Cash Over" is track #2 on the album War & Peace Vol. 1: The War Disc. It was written by O'shea Jackson;ryan Garner;jr. Hunt.
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Whassup Cube dog?
I got this bitch ass nigga right here
Y'know, fuckin' with this tramp ass bitch
Puttin' her before the scrill' all the time, ya knowhatI'msayin?

Man I got this nigga transcripts, and every mother fuckin' thang
Tellin' this bitch all my mother fuckin' business
Puttin ass over cash everyday
Nigga fuck that, this Westside

Be gone you fuckin' peon, got the Don furious
Talkin' on the phone got the Federal curious
I'm serious! I don't give a fuck where he is
Snatch him out the factory, bring his ass back to me
How the fuck you think I got the name Bossalini?
(Punk)

Mack God Rap Genie, you can't see me
Up in this game ever since you was a lame
Y'all train at my school, nigga I rule
You never make me holla, smokin' on a fifteen dollar
From across the water, watch your daughter

She might catch the Holy Ghost from this rap sermon
While you vermin', smokin' Sherman
I'm rollin' somethin' German
(Bitch)

Money earnin' makin' mo' money
(Ching ching)
Enemies look so funny, with they clothes bummy
Don't need no honey, that's right
'Cause I'm thinkin' with my big head, fuck what my dick said

We puttin' cash over ass, each and every day
Go on let the players play
(The hustlers we some money makin' motherfuckers)
(I know that you love us)

We puttin' cash over ass, each and every day
Go on let the players play
(The hustlers we some money makin' motherfuckers)
(I know that you love us)

Now who's that nigga got these bitches lookin' silly?
(Me)
I'm the Big Willie for rilly, the real dilly
You can ask Phillie 'cause I got a year's supply
(Yup)

You must want to die, don't get the lye
After dark up at Griffith Park
Shallow grave for the mark check his heart
The game about to start big thangs automatic Pu Tang
(Automatic)

Keep your mind off them bitches, eyes on your riches
If it twitches give it stitches
If it jiggles or switches, fuck and take pictures, now
I'm livin' in a two-point zone, and I'm still bumpin'
Call me in the clutch, ain't lost my touch

Nigga what? On the microphone
If I drove it in the video, bitch, I can drive it home
Tight as a Corleone
(Tight)
You got to get your own, baby get on, now

We puttin' cash over ass, each and every motherfuckin' day
Go on let the players play
(The hustlers we some money makin' motherfuckers)
(I know that you love us)

We puttin' cash over ass, each and every day
Go on let the players play
(The hustlers we some money makin' motherfuckers)
(I know that you love us)

Get your ass up and go to work, 'cause you know
On payday, nigga that shit gon' hurt
Fuckin' with a skirt instead of handlin' your bizness
Rich dude, now you got to make three wishes

I'm suspicious, of any motherfucker puttin' fuck over finance
'Specially fuckin' up my plans
I'm the boss, I can be late
But you'll never see her and me, over currency

Givin' you the third degree, 'cause you got
Too many broke bitches and you like bankin' for a penny
Stop fuckin' on them dum dums
Find one with some ass and some income

Who wanna win? Who wanna spin?
Who wanna make, twenty-five eight?
(Me)
Ice Cube the great pushin' rhymes like weight

We puttin' cash over ass, each and every goddamn day
Go on let the players play
(The hustlers we some money makin' motherfuckers)
(I know that you love us)
(Fuck)

We puttin' cash over ass, each and every day
Go ahead let the players play
(The hustlers we some money makin' motherfuckers)
(I know that you love us)

We puttin' cash over ass, each and every day
Go on let the players play
(The hustlers we some money makin' motherfuckers)
(I know, I know that you love us)

We puttin' cash over ass, each and every day
Go on let the players play
(The hustlers we some money makin' motherfuckers)
(I know that you love us)

Never put that hoe, in front of that dough nigga
For what?
(Never fuck a bitch nigga)
For what? She ain't gon' love you
If you ain't got no dough fool
(Bitch fuckin' with me got to be workin')
(Gettin' paid yaknahmsayin?)
Gotta come up, scrilla scrilla y'all
(Never ass over cash nigga)
Scrilla scrilla y'all
(We greedy)

Cha ching
(She can get some CD's, push some keys)
Cha ching
(Ha ha ha, make the bitches shake they titties)
Cha ching, cha ching
(Over my knee)
Cha-ching, cha-ching
(Never ass over cash)
Never ass over cash

Songwriters
O'shea Jackson;Ryan Garner;Jr. Hunt

Published by
WB MUSIC CORP.;GANGSTA BOOGIE MUSIC

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