Gettin Paid - Butla Jones

Verse One: Dat Nigga Daz Working LA Tryin to get paid tha right way But somehow the right way don't pay I'm comin home late every night Gotta struggle an fight Wit tha baseheads on tha late night hype Tryin to creep in tha house Through tha cut For what So I won't be seen by none of the homies But tha homie Nate Dogg spots me And say Yo what's happenin No you don't know me no more When ya pass me tha satin I said ah naw it ain't like that G I'm trying to go straight And have a J-O-B You need to quit that faggot ass job That's what he said Showed me his grip and took some satin to tha head Damn that nigga had at least two G's And he was clockin it wit so much ease I told him I was gone so I'm headin in tha house Everybody knocked out So I'm locked out I go back to tha front Where my homies is hangin at They offer me a cabby sack So I can start slangin dat They say you ain't a hustler I say don't doubt it Hold dat thought And I'll think about it Because Chorus: Nate Dogg (I've been dreamin to long, to long, to long) I don't like to dream about gettin paid Verse Two: Dat Nigga Daz The thought's complete so let me take a seat Since I was born and raised on tha streets I quit tha job I had Caught myself a sack Went from a double of fifty into a ceno stack Within a week but my peak wouldn't reach I was gettin too known on tha north side of Long Beach Niggas got to trippin and I thought I heard it So I went to tha hood On Twentieth and Murder I came up quick with some homies dat I knew from way way back And bid my sack Or maybe it's seven Or was it eight hundred strong In other words Daz had it goin on I bought myself a bucket That's right a bucket bitch Who you fuck in my car on my dick My lifeself switched a bit But my attitude didn't I told all my old bitches good riddance Cos when you got money hoes come automatically And no hoes don't do nothing but cause some static see I went from khakis to guess braids to a fade I'm not Special Ed but I had it made Livin tha life of a baller care free Havin bitches dyin to sleep wit me ya see But I went bankrupt from all the spending and gamblin Business was gettin slow And I wasn't handlin Mine tha way I was supposed to Now I'm broke and on a jack mission So don't get close to Tha D-P-G gang cause we scandalous when we broke We get tha doggs in in us We get ta actin like some Chorus Verse Three: Nate Dogg, Kurrupt Last night I had a dream Felt so good it had to be Me and my homies were gettin paid Man oh man we had it made Some homies want to roll wit me Some homies claim insanity Well if you want to set trip I will If you don't want to drop be still Damn I can't believe this But you can best believe this Today I'm on another mission to get paid Serve what I can serve right (right) So my pockets will stack up Nigga don't trip Nigga back up (hold up) I gots to react off the first impulse I find But my mama thinks I should take my time And work for mines But how much work would it take And how much money would I make Wait Theres somethin I gotta think about But I ain't got that much time Moms want a nigga out tha house I ain't gettin no younger I'm only gettin older I'm only Thinking about what my mama told me Now I'm a Dogg Pound gangsta for life And the fact that I'm out to get paid twice I ain't nuttin nice Down to slang or pull a heist Jack or break mutha fuckas on the dice That's real Now what should I do Just chill when it's time to peel caps and adapt to kill I've concealed tha concealed So I've maintained for tha salary And my mentally is raw from tha door I go hard from tha door Up against all odds Always down to squab Dogg Pound for life I survive til 95 Day after day makin hits wit D-A-Z Ta get paid yeah yeah yeah Chorus

You can ride all day long Another Myke Diesel production (Mike Jones) But you'll never catch Mr. Jones He's got a gang that's far too strong (Ice Age, Ice Age, Ice Age) Your friends know it, that's why you're all alone Chasing a man you can't see (Mike Jones) So just walk away and let him be He's got a shotgun so go back home (Who? Mike Jones Who? Mike Jones) 'Cause you'll never get Mr. Jones (Mike Jones, Mike Jones) I'm back, my music tracks about to sell another mil' My pants stay saggin' from them hundred dollar bills These haters hate but they don't really wanna see the steel These haters hate but they don't really wanna see the steel Had a million in my bank before Asylum bought the deal Had a million in my bank before Asylum bought the deal Before I came I just say the streets wouldn't feel The - that I'm spittin', the - that's real But now I'm like Melo, I'm the king of the hill American dream, I'm livin' that for real Eleven cars later - tell me how you feel Took the diamonds off my teeth And put 'em on my Phantom grill (smile, ha ha) You can ride all day long (Mike Jones) But you'll never catch Mr. Jones He's got a gang that's far too strong (Ice Age, Ice Age, Ice Age) Your friends know it, that's why you're all alone Chasing a man you can't see (Mike Jones) So just walk away and let him be He's got a shotgun so go back home (Who? Mike Jones Who? Mike Jones) 'Cause you'll never get Mr. Jones (Mike Jones, Mike Jones) I used to get dissed by the chicks in the club Now they want to rub my belly, wanna show your boy some love They see me iced up, they be like, "What's up?" Try to jack me if you wanna, I'ma leave you - up Used to roll hatchback, now I'm Cadillac and Benz Used to roll hatchback, now I'm Cadillac and Benz I used to have homies, now I'm like, "- friends" 'Cause even back then all they did was pretend Now I got my own label Ice Age and I'm boss I'm the mayor of this town with the key to that vault All my cars black on black except the one with thick gloss Got another white on white I call that - rick Rick Ross (Ross) You can ride all day long (Mike Jones) But you'll never catch Mr. Jones He's got a gang that's far too strong (Ice Age, Ice Age, Ice Age) Your friends know it, that's why you're all alone (hahahahahaha) Chasing a man you can't see (you can't see me, baby) So just walk away, and let him be He's got a shotgun so go back home (Who? Mike Jones Who? Mike Jones) 'Cause you'll never get Mr. Jones (Mike Jones, Mike Jones) Hey Now make it rain Hey Now make it rain Hey Now make it rain American Dream, album and movie on the way, baby

(Rhythm is both the song's manacle and it's demonic charge. It is the original breath, it is the whisper of unremitting demand. "What do you still want of me?", says the singer. "What do you think you can still draw from my lips?" Exact presence that no fantasy can represent. Purveyor of the oldest secret, alive with the blood that boils again, and is pulsing where the rhythm is torn apart. How your singer's blood is incensed at the depth of sound. Lacerations echo in the mouth's open erotic sky where dance together the lost frenzies of rhythm and an imploring immobility. Ladies and gentlemen, Miss Grace Jones. Jones the Rhythm.) Slave! Slave to the rhythm Dance to the rhythm Axe to wood in ancient times Man machine, production line The fire burns, with heartbeats strong Sing out loud, the chain gang song Never stop the action Keep it up, keep it up Never stop the action Keep it up, keep it up Slave to the rhythm Dance to the rhythm, The rhythm... master... master... Never stop the action, keep it up Never stop the action Keep it up, keep it up. Slave to the rhythm, work to the rhythm, Dance to the rhythm, live to the rhythm. Slave to the rhythm, Dance to the rhythm, live to the rhythm, Slave to the rhythm, work... to the rhythm, To the rhythm, work to the rhythm, to the rhythm. Slave, slave, To the rhythm, to the rhythm, to the rhythm. (Grace) Oh that's weird... (Grace Jones, welcome) Thank you Paul. And if you're wondering what's wrong with my voice, I just choked on my saliva. So... (Now obviously you're in the Bond movie.)