Money For Nuthin' Songtext

[Verse 1:]
What I gotta do to put the city on the map?
Feature Fifty on the track with Diddy in the back?
Fuck that, I ain't doing any of that crap
I'mma get me a fifty sack and shoot a video with titties in the back
Most unknown with a fold up phone
And a couple celebrities in it, so what though?
They ain't throwing us dough
So the muthafucking middle fingers going up slow for the O-1-O
Whoa, slooowwww, down. let em catch up
Once they get a little close I'mma speed it back up
Hate, but I told ya, got the weight of my state on my shoulders
So when it's over I'm gonna need a back rub
Cleveland (what up?)
Columbus (what up?)
Matter fact, the whole O, we run and shut up
And we wanna come up
But the powers that be been trying to hold us down for 300 summers
[chorus: x2]
This is the way we do it, we do it till haters lose it
Get money for nuthin (money for nuthin)
Just laying music, yeah
Ain't it stupid the way that we make our loot
If you woulda been late in school you coulda made it too
Ya hate it do ya?

[Verse 2:]
All my, fans wanna know, how the fuck is he not signed?
When he's stuck, at the Top 5, cause they want me to not shine
And they don't wanna really gimme the credit that I deserve
They wanna send me back to the Earth, I'mma giant merge
They wanna carry me inside a church
And bury me alive inside a cemetary under piles of dirt
Mispell my name on the block
Stead of 'Ris, he put a K on the count, place all my props
But that ain't going on Pac, cause the day I'mma stop
Is the day that Kanye can drop Jay from the Roc
Rock, rock star with a blonde babe on stage
Enemies think, the women they bring are safe
To the backstage, swallowing a tall Rock Star like they chuggin on an energy drink

[chorus]

[Verse 3:]
Fuck it, I'mma quit...
PSYCHE
But ya'll would love it if I did cause ya'll ain't fucking with the kid
No obstacle possible to stop Cop from doing what I got to do
I'm too hot to cool, plus you can't stop the dude
Skinny as a rail but I'm still Big Poppa Smooth
Huhhhh? Now who the FOCK are you?
I'm Doctor Dude, bitch you Dr. Seuss
You rhyming A-B-C
I'm rhyming D-E-F-G-H-I-J-K-L-M-N-O-P
Bet him with a G, he ain't fuckin with the rhythm of the C
If he did I gave him a ribbon and a G
It's a money back gurantee, all you funny rap parakeets
If you wanna rap, there's a seat
I'mma teach you muthafuckas how the double wrap barrels speed
Where's the beef?

[chorus]