Ka-Ching Lyrics

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Ka-Ching Lyrics

by Sadat X

f/ Hy Tymes



[Hook]

I know ya bitches like mink and classy things

Holdin' karats by ya ear with ya prepaid rings

Gettin' called by a thug nigga flippin' them things

Talkin' to ya how he want cause he think he a king

This shit swing right next to his pocket, ka-ching

Took ya in and out of town, show that ass some things

Wrap ya body up in glass, call ya Miss Bling Bling

Now tell ya friends about that cause it don't mean a thing

Ka-ching ching



[Verse 1]

Yo on the real, yo the ho is a freak

Gave me head in the car, I mean right in the street

And if ya don't believe me then ask my niggas ya meet

Live up on my block, sell pussy for free

It don't smell, if it did I was high of the drink

Intoxication is a fuck if my dick could think

He'd probably tell me...slow down

New York is ho town

Close ya pants nigga or ya might go down

Fuck a hole through ya condom now ya ass got a child

Now ya know that ain't cha' style

Don't wanna claim it, move away a hundred miles

Called for child support and that ass blew trial

Stressed out thinkin' what cha' gonna do now

Gray tones growin' with a sharper tone than Al's

Saxophone nigga blowin' money by the notes

Stickin' us to get paid, I'm bustin' seeds in they throat

Ya gets no fur on ya coat if you ain't hustle this coke

Jigga said it aint a thing, KA-CHING, it ain't a joke

It'll make ya grab ya totes and be out and reload

And me, a business man, like to see my money grow

And motherfuck a ho, I ain't trickin' no dough

They haters with vibrators, they don't wanna see me though



[Hook]



[Verse 2]

Lay out broads with the haze, lay out for two days

Might tease the adventure

See me freaked out with two chicks smashin' em' out

Like a nigga had two dicks

And the breeze done shook all the leaves off the trees

Leads to homicide with the suit jacket

Who want the keys in the tight package

I walkin' past the park with Spark

That's in the plain clothes harassin' the same niggas

And smashin' the same hoes

My lil' son Sammie hold the weasel

Behind the phone booth and the wall is the teasil

With em' up, we gon' live like ghetto stars, how we are

We gon' fuck with all the broads and drink shit out the bar

We gon' snatch a bitch too, throw em' in back of the car

Money boss be a force

Blast a gun in exhaust

I don't want it no more, who had they coat and they ring on the fourth floor

Yeah, let's get these broads and get the fuck outta here



[Hook]



[Verse 3]

I got pussy on my mind

But gotta keep it on the grind

Track the wrong bitch, lusted for a life of crime

Gotta sign, got the blind

That's why I fuck em' feed em'

Duck em' leave em'

Then act like I don't need em'

Because I don't need em'

They all lyin' so you can't believe em'

Fuckin' scandalous and they so conceited

They make a nigga heart stop breathin'

She whorin' every time he snorin'

Fuck a nigga where he sleepin'

That's why Trey gon' change the game

Fuck a bitch, fuck a slut, fuck a whore be about cha' caine

Ka-ching and don't forget cha' change

Something to spin when ya tipsy

And ya tip over in the Range Rover

Ride it into October

Fuck it, ya lived once plus the end is comin' closer



[Hook]



[Various ad-libs to fade]