[Lyric] M.O.B. (Birdman & Lil Wayne)

[Intro: Lil Wayne & Birdman]
Yeah
You already know what it do, nigga
(Yeah) Yeah, yeah
You know the size of it, too, huh
Fuck a nigga (Cash Money)
Deezle beats, gasoline flows (Young Money)
Hydro and sizzurp, nigga, word
I don't know what they be thinking, shawty
Yeah, fuck you nigga
Fuck 'em, you know what I'm talkin' 'bout, homie? Yeah
Keep hating 'cause, well, I'm here
If we don't know nothin', we know grindin' for the shine, daddy
Don't judge me, nigga, judge yourself in the mirror or something, bitch (Believe that)
Nah mean? (Word)
I'm twenty-two years old (Oww!) and I own everything around me, bitch nigga (Bitch, oww!)
One million, two million, three million, four million
What's good? (I got money, dog—and heart)
I ain't talkin' me, then I'm walkin'
You smell it? If you can't, bitch, go get your nose straightened out, lil' nigga
Fuck you! Get 'em!
[Verse 1: Lil Wayne]
Hey! You looking at a soldier (Yeah), bitch, I'm the sure thing (Yeah)
Born and raised in the middle of a bull ring (Yeah)
I turned a bad thing into a good thing (Yeah)
Listenin' to Malcolm, feelin' like I been hoodwinked (Yeah)
I could think about tomorrow and its promises (Yeah)
But I'ma just load my gat on some survival shit (Yeah)
And when I hear they got a drought on it— (Yeah)
I take a month out of rap, and I hustle 'til I'm out of it (Yeah)
Yeah, you can smell the work in the car seats (Get 'em)
Smell you in the trunk if you, at all, speak—shit (Yes)
I got diamonds in my mouth, bitch: I'm all teeth (Get 'em)
Fifty-two carats, Bugs Bunny, all drug money (Get 'em)
I got an ex-connect on the West Coast (Yup)
I buy 'em for five and sell 'em for twenty more—fa' sho' (Yeah)
Haha! I'm nice with the flow (Geah, geah)
But a chosen few know that I'm a hustler on the low (Geah, geah, yeah, shh)

[Hook: Lil Wayne]
Yeah! Look into the eyes (Yeah) of a hustler, baby (Yeah)
That money—I'ma get it (Yeah), and the second I get it (Yeah, tss)
It's money over bitches (Yeah, oww! Yeah)
Yeah, you know it's money over bitches (Oww! Yeah)
Now, go get my money (Oww! Yeah)
Look into the eyes (Oww! Yeah) of a hustler, baby (Oww! Yeah)
That money—I'ma get it (Oww! Yeah), and the second I get it (Oww! Yeah)
It's money over bitches (Yeah, oww! Yeah)
Yeah, you know it's money over bitches (Oww! Yeah)
Now, go get my money (Oww! Yeah)
[Verse 2]
Take it out the wrapper (Yeah), set it on the stove (Yeah)
Break a gram off and put it in my bitch nose (Yeah)
She tells me how it feels (Yeah): She's numb, She's froze (yeah)
Bitch, wake up (Yeah) and help me cook these O's (Yeah)
I gotta get my cake up (Ha)—see, all I eat is dough (Ha)
I'm a dangerous motherfucker (Ha)—watch your feet, your toes (Ha)
I bang this motherfucker if you can't keep it closed— (Ha)
That's your mouth I'm talkin' 'bout (Ha)—stop jumping out your face (I'm here!)
Before I have a hundred buckshots jumpin' out your face (Bap!)
One shot'll knock your girlfriend's scrunchie out of place (Bap!)
Tony Dungy: I don't play; I coach, ho (Ha!)
I spray Raid on a cockroach—die slow (Psst, psst)
I know my flow is hotter than Five-O
Summertime in Hollygrove (Seventeenth)—that's a stove (Yeah)
As he drove that black Bentley coupe through the city (Ugh)
All the bitches try to get me, and I let 'em (Ugh, ugh)

[Hook: Lil Wayne]
Yeah! Look into the eyes (Yeah) of a hustler, baby (Yeah)
That money—I'ma get it (Yeah), and the second I get it (Yeah, tss)
It's money over bitches (Yeah, oww! Yeah)
Yeah, you know it's money over bitches (Oww! Yeah)
Now, go get my money (Oww! Yeah)
Look into the eyes (Oww! Yeah) of a hustler, baby (Oww! Yeah)
That money—I'ma get it (Oww! Yeah), and the second I get it (Oww! Yeah, tss)
It's money over bitches (Yeah, oww! Yeah)
Yeah, you know it's money over bitches (Oww! Yeah)
Now, go get my money (Oww! Yeah)
[Verse 3: Lil Wayne]
Ayy, I got twenty on my wrists (Yeah): That's a rainy-day schedule (Yeah)
Raindrop diamonds, nigga: That's a rainy-day bezel (Yeah)
Yellow diamond earrings: Sunny-day special (Ooh!)
It's vicious how a nigga's side-view'll straight catch you (Ooh!)
The bitches on the sidelines, looking for the rescue (Shut up)
But I just give 'em guidelines, hard dick, and pistols (Shut up)
Five hard, five soft, wrapped up in tissue (Shut up)
Say, "Bitch, you better get back before I start to miss you" (Shut up)
It's Tha Carter, baby—pardon all my issues, shit (Yeah)
I gotta get it—I'm a hustler to my tennis shoe (You know)
Shit, tell them boys, "Come on in the swimming pool" (Come on)
Send a fool—bet I eat 'em up like dinner food (Come on)
And I'm floatin with keys in the inner tube (Yeah)
Prolly see my driving with pounds in the twenty-twos (Yeah)
All fifty-one rounds in the forty-seven (Yeah)
"Dope boy, dope boy!"—that's what they yelling

[Hook: Lil Wayne & DJ Khaled]
Yeah! Look into the eyes (Yeah) of a hustler, baby (Yeah)
That money—I'ma get it (Yeah), and the second I get it (Yeah, tss)
It's money over bitches (Yeah, oww! Yeah)
Yeah, you know it's money over bitches (Oww! Yeah)
Now, go get my money (Oww! Yeah)
Look into the eyes (Oww! Yeah) of a hustler, baby (Oww! Yeah)
That money—I'ma get it (Oww! Yeah), and the second I get it (Oww! Yeah)
It's money over bitches (Yeah, oww! Yeah)
Shout to all my hustlers out there!
Yeah, you know it's money over bitches (Oww! Yeah)
Now, go get my money (Oww! Yeah)

[Outro: Lil Wayne]
The fuck up, man
I don't need y'all niggas
I got me