Lyrics Junior M.A.F.I.A.

Junior M.A.F.I.A.

Get Money

Get money

Get money

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You wanna sip mo' on my living room flo'

Play Nintendo with cease a Leo

Pick up my phone say "Poppa not home"

Sex all night mad head in the morn'

Spin my V, smoke all my weed

Tattoo on sayin' B I G, now check it

You wanna be my main squeeze baby

Don'tcha, you wanna gimme what I need baby

Won'tcha, picture life as my wife just think

Full length mink, fat X and O links

Bracelets to match, conversation was all that

Showed you the safe combinations and all that

Guess you could say you's the one I trusted

Who would ever think that you would spread like mustard?

Got hot, you sent feds to my spot

Took me to court, tried to take all I got

'Nother intricate plot, the bitch said, "I raped her"

Damn, why she wanna stick me for my paper?

My mo-sci-no, my ver-sa-ce hottie

Come to find out, you was everybody

You knew about me, the fake ID

Cases in Virginia, body in D.C

Woe, oh is me, that's what I get for trickin'

Pay my own bail, commence to kickin'

Lick in the door, wavin' the four-four

All you heard was, poppa don't hit me no more

Disrespect my click, my imperial

Fuck around and made her milk box material

You feel me? suckin' , runnin' your lips

'Cause of you, I'm on some real

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Betta grab a seat grab on your as this gets deep

Deeper than the of a six feet

Stiff feel sweet in this little petite

Young from the street, guaranteed to stay down

Used to bring work outta town on Greyhound

Now I'm Billboard now, press to hit it

Play me like a chicken, thinkin' I'm pressed to get it

Rather do the killin' than the stick up jooks

Or rather count a million while you eat my

Push me to the limit get my feelings in it

Get me open while I'm cummin' down your throat

You wanna be my main squeeze

Don'tcha, you wanna lick between my knees

Don'tcha wanna see me whippin' your three down the Ave

Blow up spots on because I'm mad

Break up affairs lick shots in the air

You get vexed, and start swingin' everywhere

Me shifty now you wanna pistol whip me?

Pull out your nine, while I cock on mine

Yeah what? I ain't got time for this

So what? I'm not tryin' to hear that

Now you wanna buy me diamonds and Armani suits

Adia Vinadini and Chanel lime boots

Things that make up, for all the games and the lies

Hallmark cards, sayin, "I apologize"

Is you with me how could you ever deceive me?

But payback's a, believe me

Naw I ain't gay this ain't no flow

Just a little somethin', to let you motherfucker know

Get money

Get money

Get money

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