Drake feat. Rick Ross – Money In The Grave (Lyrics | Video 2019)

Lyrics “Money In The Grave” / Drake feat. Rick Ross

I mean, where the f**k should I really even start
I got h*es that I’m keepin’ in the dark
I got my n**gas ‘cross the street livin’ large
Thinkin’ back to the fact that they dead
Thought my raps wasn’t facts ’til they sat with the bars

I got two phones, one need a charge
Yeah, they twins, I could tell they ass apart
I got big packs comin’ on the way
I got big stacks comin’ out the safe
I got Lil Max with me, he the wave
It’s a big gap between us in the game
In the next life, I’m tryna stay paid
When I die, put my money in the grave

When I die, put my money in the grave
I really gotta put a couple n**gas in they place
Really just lapped every n**ga in the race
I really might tat Realest n**ga on my face
Lil CC let it slap with the bass
I used to save h*es with a mask and a cape
Now I’m like, Nah, love, I’m good, go away
Ain’t about to die with no money, I done gave it

I was on top when that s**t meant a lot
Still on top like I’m scared of the drop
Still on top and these n**gas wanna swap
N**gas wanna swap like it’s Slauson or Watts
I don’t wanna change ’cause I’m good where I’m at
Mob ties, so I’m always good where I’m at
Word to Junior, Jazzy, Baby J
Tell ’em when I die, put my money in the grave

Couple figures, killers call and collect
She f**k a n**ga, then she on to the next
Really livin’ large, she in awe with a mack
When you n**gas thinkin’ small in the mall with a rat
Roll with us if you really wanna get it
Go get a half a million in the Sprinter
Phone ringin’, b**ches know a big tipper
I got the hookup and there’s really no limit
Dead broke is in you n**ga DNA
Rickey Smiley’s in Decatur with the yé
Lil’ n**ga, just another state case
Bury my motherf**kin’ Chase Bank

Time to bounce, gotta count on my allowance
You n**gas snitches so I gotta reroute it
A n**ga drippin’ like I got a zillion dollars
Got the trap jumpin’ like Zion when I rebound it
Then I’m out and I’ll never talk about it
The homies quiet, but we all smoke the loudest
Rich n**gas and I’m really bein’ modest
‘Cause the way I do my deals, never treated like a artist
Want the house, you could DM my accountant
My per diem six figures and I’m countin’
Nine figures was the goal ’til I hit it
These n**gas ain’t livin’, so bury mine with me
Ross got it

When I die, put my money in the grave
I really gotta put a couple n**gas in they place
Really just lapped every n**ga in the race
I really might tat Realest n**ga on my face
Lil CC let it slap with the bass
I used to save h*es with a mask and a cape
Now I’m like, Nah, love, I’m good, go away
Ain’t about to die with no money, I done gave it…

➤ Written by Asoteric, Ljay Currie, Cydney Christine, Rick Ross & Drake
Album: The Best in the World Pack
Produced by Asoteric, Ljay Currie & Cydney Christine
Drake | Rick Ross | 2019

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