All About My Fetti

The definition of a playa hater:
A busta
A b*tch with a di*k
A violator of the Sixth Bar of the Mack Game
Busta with a complex
"Man, you know that n*gga Khayree f*ckin Mac Mall out his money, man
You know that n*gga Lay ain't gon' get paid
I heard Ray Luv in jail and sh*t"

Little old b*tch-ass muthaf*ckas
Mac Mall
Young Lay
Ray Luv
I'mma need y'all to come in, man
I need the whole Young Black Brotha Records line-up to come in
And spit some game to these lil' old b*tches with di*ks
Playa-hatin busta-ass nuthin-ass n*ggas
Now you nuthin-ass n*ggas check game

Hey playa, don't it be a point in your life
Where you just wanna smoke a muthaf*cka, man?
(f*ck yeah!)
Man you get to trippin on some of that wild sh*t
Hoes and flauntin sh*t
A n*gga tryina kick back, man, you know
Be real about his fetti though
They all in a n*gga mix
What's up, Mac Mall, Ray Luv
What's up, playas?

Hey man, that be them inner way-ass n*ggas, Lay
'Cause it's like this, man:
When my album came out, man
Next thing you know it's a million muthaf*ckas in my face
Askin me so many questions
sh*t...

Young Ray Luv, what's up man?
(Jealous-ass muthfaf*ckas...)
Yo, we tryina come real about the fetti though
(Hell yeah)
That's right

Check this out
You know we all about that money, man
Got no time to be trippin on that stupid sh*t
Little old biaatch

Ah, it's goin down
(That's right)
But anyway
Who finna serve em some of that old pimp sh*t, man?
(I think Ray Luv)
Your n*gga Young Ray Luv in the house
(I think I'm finna come on first)
Tell em muthaf*ckas

[Verse 1: Ray Luv]
One mo' time for the streets of Killa Cali
Grew up on the dank and shootin' dice up in the alley
Back when n*ggas had names like Rock Tee, Chin and Butta
O.G. game from the muthaf*ckin gutter
I guess it was cool when a n*gga had no riches
'Cause n*ggas didn't P.H. and run they mouths like b*tches
Much love for the hood, what up, n*gga, where's my homies?
Show love for these n*ggas, but they ain't got no love for me
Jealous as f*ck when I got love from the Crest n*ggas
But all I get is mean mugs from you West n*ggas
Now that I think these muthaf*ckas is so funny
Gon' peel a n*gga's cap for a trick-ass nobody
(Mac Mall: You better check your heart and your brain, mayne
I think you n*ggas need to get up on some game, mayne)
Picked up on your hoe, I'm gettin jocked by your steady
All I want the money though, I'm all about my fetti
n*gga

[Chorus: Khayree & (Ray Luv)]
Money money money's all I know
I gots no time to waste with you trickin punk-hoes
Money money money's all I see
You need to get some game and quit f*ckin with me
Moneeey (I'm all about my fetti) Moneeey
(I'm all about my fetti) Moneeey
(I'm all about my fetti) Moneeey

[Verse 2: Mac Mall]
Now half of these n*ggas is falsified
The rest is full of mess, so they tend to hide
A lotta them is cowards who be actin hard
Some is tired-ass tricks who will never get far
Some is straight dopefiends tryina grind they lley
But they still pushin pebbles to this muthaf*ckin day
Some start funk over hoes and blame it on somethin else
Them n*ggas need to check theyself
But the sucker that I hate the most
Is the busta full of envy, mad cauz he broke
Every night he be stressin, thinkin that his hoe wanna get me
I wouldn't f*ck her with yo di*k, she ain't got nothin to give me
Cuz your n*gga is broke, so hoe, I know you're starvin
So you won't have to worry about Mac Mall harmin
Your boyfriend and girlfriend relationship
I got my money and my cuddies, who needs a b*tch?
Mac Mall will never get played
I'mma stay Ses ways
And you know I'm all about that money

[Chorus: Khayree & (Mac Mall)]
Money money money's all I know
(That's all I know, n*gga)
I gots no time to waste with you trickin punk-hoes
(f*ck them hoes and them n*ggas)
Money money money's all I see
(That's all I see in the Triple C)
You need to get some game and quit f*ckin with me
(Stop f*ckin with me)
Moneeey (I'm all about my fetti) Moneeey
(I'm all about my fetti) Moneeey
(I'm all about my fetti) Moneeey

(Yeah, my n*gga Young Lay, come serve them fools)

[Verse 3: Young Lay]
Gettin blimped with a tramp up on a [?] confusin what's right
To hide the doubt, so I grab my money and my lle', hey
Why do us youngsters be so nervous?
n*ggas creepin all through these turfs
Plus these po-po's tryin to serve us, yeah
But I kick back and just act with my f*ckin clan
And kick that gangsta rap and spit about my gangsta macks
On rap tracks and spit for those that copy free
And give 'em they dap and tell 'em it ain't a day without drink and weed
G's get stacked, now who's a mack, yeah, the n*gga shook ya
Ki's of crack get cut down, but but not by the cooker
But yo, the crookers, watchin me all the time
But I keep lookin and keep a nine by my spine
Or to my side, 'cause when I ride you'll never know
But if it's over some dough, Young Lay is quick to let it go
And let him know, n*gga, that this is loc side
Home of the Mac, playa pros, squares run and hide
'Cause tonight we gonna do it just like this
But if your ho is choosin, n*gga, the mic's in my fist
Some of this mixed with a whole lotta that
Old threw in with new, it made my fetti fat

[Chorus: Khayree & (Young Lay)]
Money money money's all I know
I gots no time to waste with you trickin punk-hoes
Money money money's all I see
You need to get some game and quit f*ckin with me
Moneeey (I'm all about my fetti) Moneeey
(I'm all about my fetti) Moneeey
(I'm all about my fetti) Moneeey
Moneeey...Moneeey
Moneeey...Moneeey

Ah yeah
Youknowmsayin?
There it is right there
And there you have it, muthaf*ckas
Straight muthaf*ckin game
From three pimpin-ass young playin-ass muthaf*ckas
Ray Luv, Mac Mall, and Young pimpin-ass Lay
Youknowmsayin?
They just touched it on that 6th bar of them 32 muthaf*ckin bars
You muthaf*ckin busta-ass n*ggas with complexes
Broke punk-ass muthaf*ckas that always got your muthaf*ckin nose into somebody else sh*t
Now what you need to be doin is gettin your own muthaf*ckin game tight
You understand me?
And eh - youknowmsayin
Put some fetti in your own muthaf*ckin pockets
'stead of runnin round here talkin bout what the f*ck is we doin, youknowmsayin?
'Cause we straight dwellin on the green
Ain't got no time for the in-between, youknowmsayin?
So all you busta-ass n*ggas
f*ck y'all, we all about the fetti, mayne