Song: Message Approved
Artist:  Aasim
Year: 2010
Viewed: 17 - Published at: 5 years ago

[Intro: Aasim & DJ Self]
Money Pit part two!
Uh-uh, uh

[Verse 1]
Cost of livin', when you about a hun'ed
Million dollars richer, your reign on the top got a
Fiber glass ceilin', now here's a picture
A million bitches in the club, how you gon' pick a
Fight with some niggas? Mamí, listen
You came to the spot half-naked you don't think these
Niggas on a mission? I pray to God
I try to try to keep my faith, but every day stress
Be testin' me hard

[Chorus]
Uh, uh, foot heavy on the gas, can't pump my brakes at all
I hope a nigga don't crash while you watch my rise and fall
But I don't plan on comin' back down, I gotta have it all
On the court I play the game to win, gimme the ball
[Verse 2]
Mama used to tuck me in, but I still had
Bad dreams, the same ones over again, and my
Pops is on strike, I guess it all makes sense
Since he missed the first half of my life, they say
"You with Diddy, nigga, how you broke like us?
Almost at the end of your rope like us? No hope like us?"
I'm closer to the top than the bottom
So the right now ain't really a problem, it could be worse
We got the first black President
The one before that tried to leave us cursed
So now what is the cost of livin'?
Minimum wage is like a dollar fifty cent less than what niggas was gettin'
I tried pitchin', when I was young I had the
Same ounce of weed for the whole damn summer
You gotta love it, you gotta laugh at yourself sometimes
Throw up your hands and say, "Fuck it," mo'fuckers

[Chorus]
Uh, uh, foot heavy on the gas, can't pump my brakes at all
I hope a nigga don't crash while you watch my rise and fall
But I don't plan on comin' back down, I gotta have it all
On the court I play the game to win, gimme the ball

[Verse 3]
Road to the riches, real niggas ain't always real
So doin' real things is kinda eh
Is the rap game finished? I don't know
But it sure is a lot of rappers, and not a whole lotta winners
I know a lotta sinners, I'm one of 'em
So I ain't gotta hide from no mirrors
Can't make a ho a housewife, and can't take her to dinner
Bag her, fuck her, be done with her, you dumb nigga
My résumé led astray, many chicks loiter men like day
Brought 'em right into the dark side
Now I got a daughter, and it's ironic
I'm tryin' to be the man lookin' out for her
Baby mother say she my biggest fan
But every month, she need another grand, fuck it
This the life I chose, 'til my light dim
I look at pops, and try to be the opposite of like him, y'knamean?
[Chorus]
Uh, uh, foot heavy on the gas, can't pump my brakes at all
I hope a nigga don't crash while you watch my rise and fall
But I don't plan on comin' back down, I gotta have it all
On the court I play the game to win, gimme the ball

[Outro: DJ Self]
Money Pit, part two!

( Aasim )
www.ChordsAZ.com

TAGS :