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    [Chorus 2X with variations]
    Money on my mind
    Money on my mind
    Money on my mind
    Money money on my mind
    Money on my mind
    Money on my mind
    Money money on my mind
    So money is all I think of

    Steppin out the motherfuckin car they in awe
    I'm lookin like a star bitch when you see me make a wish
    Holla at ya motherfuckin boy J.R.
    Birdman my pa bitch ball bred born rich
    Dear Mr. Toilet I'm the shit
    Got these other haters pissed cause my toilet paper thick
    I know but trip and that forty make a chip
    Out a potato head wimp and like ranch I dip
    And the hustle was all muscle just strength
    When it comes to that weight I don't struggle I just lift
    I got my hand on the game yeah I make a grip
    Hundred grand in my fist same on my wrist
    Get key money from a quarter blame it on my wrist
    I whip coke like hoes nigga I'm a pimp
    Lil nigga bout to rape the market
    If we talkin bout money baby now we talkin


    [Hook: during chorus]
    Fuck bitches [3X]
    Get money [3X]
    Get money fuck bitches
    Fuck bitches get money
    Fuck bitches get money

    Nigga get it in a slump if you know how
    In the heart of the summer we need a snow plow
    What you know bout that baby its yo time
    Coke transactions on the phone we call it blowjob
    Too fast for the feds too cocky for the cops
    Had to ditch my old bitch gettin sloppy wit the pots
    Hoppin off the boat meetin papi at the docks
    He tell me I'm gainin weight I tell him I'm gettin paid
    Money over bitches I'm yellin it to the grave
    Developed at a young age go after what pays
    These Gabana sunshades block the sunrays
    I drop a car note in the mall on the first day
    I gotta get it even if its in the worst way
    That cake like it's it's my birthday
    New Orleans my birthplace ya heard me
    Where moneys more important than the person

    [Chorus + Hook during chorus]

    Twistin up a blunt thinkin bout my next dollar
    I'm diggin in the game tryna get some money out her
    I'm so vain its a problem
    It ain't a stain on these Pradas I'm just bein modest
    Got me a goddess sure how to divide it
    She still down and she don't get none of the profit
    We around the city let the tints hide me
    Thats a cold muhfucker whoever inside it
    Forever symbolizing the grind it don't walk to you
    I make it run like horses do
    Giddy up baby if you got it then hit 'em up baby
    I know its crazy but I can't get enough baby
    I love it I fuckin love it
    I'm a self made millionaire fuck the public
    Ridin to myself cause I don't fuck with nothin
    Pistol on my lap on the way to the money

    [Chorus + Hook during chorus]

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    Todas as letras de Lil Wayne

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