Discover the poetic beauty in ‘Money on the Floor’ by 8Ball. This lyric breakdown takes you on a journey through the artist’s thoughts, emotions, and the story they aim to tell. From clever metaphors to evocative imagery, we delve into the nuances that make this song a lyrical masterpiece. Whether you’re a fan of 8Ball or a lover of well-crafted words, our detailed analysis will give you a deeper understanding and appreciation of this song.
Is it me or is it something about a car
That makes a bad bitch get freaky f*ck like porno stars?
Or maybe it was that chrome that keep a bopper in the zone
But either way she hit my phone like she can’t leave me lone
And that there just keeps happening, blame it on all this rapping shit
10 out of 10 she dying to f*ck, that’s just what my average is
Slab and chassis lavishly, wood cabin, digi-dash in it I’m an advocate
Chromed out wheels if you hop in here you might jet lag a bit
I’m passionate about everything that I want, I do what it do and y’all don’t
I put the whole world in my trunk, let it bump
Check the stars out when I ride, dodgin’ potholes with these tires
Hogging lanes, swang and bang in a ‘Stang so let me by
‘Cause I got
Money on the floor
Lighters on the dresser
Drop my top, no one can do it better
Diamonds and the leather
Wood and the chrome
Bopping ass hoes just won’t leave me alone
Money on the floor
Lighters on the dresser
Drop my top, no one can do it better
Diamonds and the leather
Wood and the chrome
Bopping ass hoes just won’t leave me alone
She call me big baby, I got my Guccis on
Black on black, head to toe, smelling like Prada cologne
Feeling like big pimping, inhale, exhale
Good green, thick lean, give them bitches x pills
Cocaine make them get so loose on them tequila shots
Every time I do it I regret it, the bitch just can’t stop
Now she’s dancing on the table, skirt done went up to her navel
Niggas throwing money at her, shit I can’t be mad at her
You bring the girl to me then I’ma bless her, yessir
25 lighters on my dresser, yessir
My bitch on the block with some money on her mind
A pistol in her purse and a heart full of grind
I’m pimp type, MJ, drop my top, light that dro
Hand on the wood with the pedal on the floor
Forever get dough and I’m clever on the ho
Still get vetted man, never be a scary man
My DNA is all Ike Turner, Eddie King
Money on the floor
Lighters on the dresser
Drop my top, no one can do it better
Diamonds and the leather
Wood and the chrome
Bopping ass hoes just won’t leave me alone
Money on the floor
Lighters on the dresser
Drop my top, no one can do it better
Diamonds and the leather
Wood and the chrome
Bopping ass hoes just won’t leave me alone
25 lighters, 25 cyphers
Went to jail and shared a cell with a 25-to-lifer
Stayed at my grandma house with 25 bibles
Stayed in the trap house with like 25 rifles
Drop my top and I dip dip dip
But if I pop my trunk you better duck, don’t slip
Chrome lips on the vehicle look like they blowing kisses
Reel them hoes in, it look like I’m going fishing
Okay this how I ride, two bad hoes inside
One ho say she ready, the other ho said she tired
I’ma drop this other ho off, me and the other ho we gon’ ride
All jokes aside I’m the get money poster child
Money on the floor
Lighters on the dresser
Drop my top, no one can do it better
Diamonds and the leather
Wood and the chrome
Bopping ass hoes just won’t leave me alone
Money on the floor
Lighters on the dresser
Drop my top, no one can do it better
Diamonds and the leather
Wood and the chrome
Bopping ass hoes just won’t leave me alone