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Credits
PERFORMING ARTISTS
Sleepy Brown
Vocals
Caleb Speir
Bass Guitar
Joshua Lopez
Guitar
Kenneth Crouch
Piano
Bun B
Vocals
Pimp C
Vocals
Raydio
Sampled Artist
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Chad Butler
Songwriter
Bernard James Freeman
Songwriter
Ray Parker Jr.
Songwriter
Kenneth Crouch
String Arranger
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Pimp C
Producer
Oscar Ramirez
Recording Engineer
Bob Brown
Mixing Engineer
N.O. Joe
Mixing Engineer
Bun B
Executive Producer
Cory Mo
Recording Engineer
Eddy Schreyer
Mastering Engineer
J. Prince
Executive Producer
James "Jimbo" Barton
Assistant Recording Engineer
Mike Moe
Recording Engineer
Phillip Ramos
Assistant Mixing Engineer
antonio resendiz
Assistant Recording Engineer
Lyrics
[Verse 1]
Dedicate to all the underdogs know what I'm talkin' 'bout
Motherfucker told me I wasn't gonna be shit
Told me I wasn't gonna be able to do this rap shit
Know what I'm talkin' 'bout
My own family talk down on me, know what I'm sayin'
[Verse 2]
(Bring it, no bitch shatter your dreams)
Momma told me I wasn't gonna be shit
(Might not be all that it first seems)
I use to walk around with a bag full of raps
(Might not have all the things you need, yeah)
Motherfucker told me a **** from Texas couldn't make no record
(Well all you got to do is believe)
(Got to get more money)
Even after I made the record motherfuckers said
They would never give us no respect
(Got to get my money)
But now they tryna rap like
(You got to get your money)
Tryna be like
Tryna smell like us, know what I'm talkin' 'bout
(I got to get my money)
Check this out
(Get your money)
[Verse 3]
Man, I refuse to let these bitches take away my pride
Them hoes can lock my body up, but they can't lock my mind
See I'm a young street flame, I got them fire eyes
I mean the eyes of fire, the tiger, the black prize
I call some women bitches, and I call some women whores
A bitch a dirty boy, whore open up the pussy store
Now what the difference between the two, man I just told ya that
But that don't mean that every woman I know is down with that
If you a bitch and wanna switch it ain't too late to change
It's all about how you carry yourself and how you handle things
Some say that hoes and pimps is born, I don't believe that shit
'Cause anytime you wanna stop it ain't too late to quit
Just 'cause you sold your body don't mean you a ho for life
I got to speak it right for all those that paid the price
But if you in it to win it, go ahead and live the life
But that if you ain't in it, you still can do it right
[Verse 4]
(Ain't let no one shatter your dreams)
(Might not be all that it first seems)
(Might not have all the things you need, yeah)
(All you got to do is believe)
(Got to get more money, yeah)
(Got to get my money)
(You got to get your money, yeah)
(You got to get my money)
[Verse 5]
To all the babies havin' babies on your own
I know you feelin' fucked up and feelin' all alone
I know your people tellin' ya, ya fucked up your life
You only fucked up if you lay down and don't continue to fight
And to the young **** out there tryna sell dope
I know your family fucked up and this your last rope
In your heart I know your cold with this rhyme shit
But ain't nothing happenin' but this twenties and this dime shit
And you the daddy with lil' mommy 'bout to have the baby
You want her on your team but **** telling ya you're crazy
Plus you thinkin' you too young to have a family
But all them moves you makin' make you a man to me
When you get called a man, them **** ain't gon' ride with ya
But get down with that girl and she gon' keep it live with ya
But she gon' help you put your money up and a save some
'Cause right now your runnin' through it thinkin' you ain't made nuttin'
It's time to change something
[Verse 6]
(Ain't let no bitch shatter your dreams)
(Might not be all that it first seems)
(Might not have all the things you need, yeah)
(All you got to do is believe)
(Got to get more money, yeah)
(I got to get my money)
(You got to get your money, yeah)
(I got to get my money)
(Got to get your money)
[Verse 7]
If you a ball player, man go 'head an play ball
Don't let nobody steal your dream if you ain't came to fall
I know they sayin' ain't enough room in the NBA
You tell them haters, save that bullshit for another day
If you a singer, lil' momma go ahead and sing your song
Them hoes say you ain't gonna make it, them fucking bitches wrong
You ain't got to get butt naked on stage in a thong
To sell your records and show the people you got it goin' on
I see whole lotta motherfuckers come and go
I know young **** sold they soul for the dirty dough
They wanna rap I understand, go 'head and chase the dream
But chase too hard, give up the Lord and end up like a fiend
Some people day, what can I say that only judge is God
But don't be shamin' and try to hide, 'cause then you livin' fraud
'Cause everything done is the dark don't come to the light
So do your thing 'cause can no man tell you what's wrong or right
So do your thing 'cause can no man tell you what's wrong or right
Written by: Bernard James Freeman, Chad Butler