It’s Kim Bitches (Get That Money)

[Intro]
Ya'll know who it is
NEW MONEY!
It's me, bitches

[Verse 1]
Back up on the scene, it's the microphone fiend
Fuck keepin' it clean, I'm keepin' it real green
(WARNING) She's hazardous, ghetto-fabulous
You can't see her with binoculars (You cannot see her dawg)
I'm keepin' it Holly-hood, out in Hollywood
Put ya lighters up if you rollin' that backwood (put 'em up, put 'em up!)
Once again it's on, your girl's back in the zone
Maybe it's the beat or the seven shots of Patron
Like Cypress Hill, I'm 'Insane In The Brain'
My niggas, clear the lane, I'm comin' to bring the pain (she comin')
Time for a change, ya'll all sound the same
Ya'll all makin' it rain, we makin' it hurricane
Like a good meal, I hit the spot
This is why, this is why, this is why I'm hot
What you cowards forgot, is stayin' on top
I'm kinda like your album, it ain't never gon' drop
Y'all got guns, and they never gon' pop
You already know the motto, "Ain't Never Gon' Stop"
I'm always on that green light, tryna get my team right
Back to back 5-50s, that cream white
Red diamonds like a infrared beam light
My soldiers masked up like it's Halloween night
You know the apple-bottoms got the jeans fittin' tight
Marciano bra got the titties sittin' right
JT had a sexy track, but it's gon take Lil' Kim to bring sexy back
It's me the trendsetter, 24/7 Star sweater
24 karat gold on Astar leather, best thing since Donatella
We in the club and our table's bottled up like a wine cellar
Let's get this mozzarella, money is time fella
The Queen reign better get under my umbrella-ella-ella-aye-aye-aye
It's the Mafia La Bella-ella-ella, all day-aye, yeah
Kim still gutta mane
American Idol, before Ruben Studdard mane
My sex appeal make you stu-stu-stutter mane
My CD all in ya crib like brudda mane
I'm seasoned with all the right spices
I'm the whole pie, y'all just slices
I'm hotter than Tabasco sauce
When God make it rain. it's to cool me off

[Hook]
Get that money, get that money
Don't stop huggin' the block, get that money
Get that money, get that money
Don't stop huggin' the block, get that money

[Verse 2]
Cause I'm 'bout to own the charts
When I pop my collar, man I'm extra heavy on the starch
Extra heavy on the wheels, extra heavy on the watch
Jewelry like Henny, extra heavy on the rocks
My dudes on the grind, extra heavy on the block
You know I like my men extra heavy with the guap
You lookin' for the dude leavin' the club in the Gallardo
I'm lookin' for the due leavin' in the helicopter
So we can toast, overlooking the coast
Just think about that, next time you flyin' coach
Yeah I came home, little meat on the thighs
I'm eye candy, real sweet on the eyes
Yeah I fucked with Nas, hypnotized B.I
Damn, they even thought I married Jay, like Blige
But nah, nah, Kim keep two steppin'
Two-fo'-seven, is what I'm reppin'
Lil' Kim for mayor, fuck with a real bitch
Queen Bee nigga, get with the real shit
You need a fix, I'm the one to holla at
Ya stocks went down, you can't get a dolla back