[Lyric] All About The Money (Lute)

[Verse 1: Jimmy Kelso]
Lately, I've been dreaming of my favorite Benz
A model and a couple of her lady friends
They're addicted to weed, clothes, and Chardonnay
Life lessons are better learned the hard way
Hard drop top-down out in broad day
Lord, I'm sorry, forgive me, but shit I need cake
Malcolm said get means by any way, so I know my dreams coming like any day
Stepping out clean when I pose for them pictures
Shittin' on them lames, make them hoes do the dishes
All this money chasing I got time for no bitches
But its Kobe Bryant diamonds when I'm dealing with my mistress
So imagine what my miss get, chavasi chandeliers hangin' in the kitchen
She call it success, y'all calling it trickin'
Motherfucker I'm blessed my mom calling me gifted
Tell me how real is that
Producers send me tracks its murder when I send it back
Wack rappers and lame niggas that send me raps
I'm just scoping from the top like handle that
And now the views much clearer
Fake rappers turn to lies when you first hear em
Them other weak niggas is barely hittin' my mirror
It's 2012, my nigga the truth is finally here
[Chorus: Lute]
He said it's all about the money, the cars, the clothes
Boy, that's all these niggas know
Put a Chevy on fours but I'm tryna save your soul for the hoes
Cause she all about the money, the cars, the clothes
Bruh, that's all these bitches knows
Catch a nigga on fours but I'm tryna save your soul from these hoes
He said it's all about the money, the cars, the clothes
Boy, that's all these niggas know
Put a Chevy on fours but I'm tryna save your soul from these hoes
Cause she all about the money, the cars, the clothes
Bruh, that's all these bitches knows
Catch a nigga on fours but I'm tryna save your soul from these hoes

[Verse 2: Lute]
He said my nigga peep the funk 'til we're out here on our grind
So we rap about these nines to show niggas we no chumps
Pray to God, never gave us a sign and popped the trunk
But if he chills best believe I would dump
Ain't your average hoodlum but nigga catch me in the slums though
Niggas tryna chief so you know we on that tonto
Got it from the Eses, smoke a whole compo
Rags in the crack smoke box the whole condo
Welcome to the dojo, spit about a boatload so I can sit on four fours
My niggas that's classic, me and my niggas we make classics
Box Chevy all black looking like a casket
Westside what it is, nigga what's happening?
Westside running shit, nigga who we lapping?
My nigga, who we lapping?
Westside running shit, nigga what's happening
[Chorus: Lute]
He said it's all about the money, the cars, the clothes
Boy, that's all these niggas know
Put a Chevy on fours but I'm tryna save your soul for the hoes
Cause she all about the money, the cars, the clothes
Bruh, that's all these bitches knows
Catch a nigga on fours but I'm tryna save your soul from these hoes
He said it's all about the money, the cars, the clothes
Boy, that's all these niggas know
Put a Chevy on fours but I'm tryna save your soul from these hoes
Cause she all about the money, the cars, the clothes
Bruh, that's all these bitches knows
Catch a nigga on fours but I'm tryna save your soul from these hoes