Tonalité : B major•
Intro 1
F#
Verse 1
F#
It ain't about all that yang -yang
E
Brothers be talkin' and steady poppin'
F#
Runnin' they game as they
E
F#
continue bitch -hoppin'
Some hoes is stupid,
E
F#
lettin' niggas buck him
Puttin' up they checks
E
just so they can fuck him
F#
E
And they ain't even gettin' paid
in the thick of shit
F#
Lettin' niggas take they money,
E
F#
now that's some stupid shit
E
But you'll never catch me in the crossfire
F#
Takin' care of a nigga,
I ain't no dick buyer
If he ain't doin' nothin' for me,
then bye, baby
E
Gettin' juiced by a nigga,
F#
are you fuckin' crazy?
E
F#
That type of shit went out in 86
And even back then,
E
F#
I wasn't down with that fuckin' mix
E
If you wanna be my man,
F#
you gotta do it for me
Plain and simple, G
E
F#
E
F#
Fm
It's all about that pay
Ain't, ain't tryin' to get
Ain't, ain't tryin' to get
F#
To make it sim ple,
E
juicin' ain't no kinda hobby
F#
I make my own money,
E
F#
and I don't need nobody
E
Tellin' me where to go
F#
and who to see black
E
Or what I should spend my money on,
F#
fuck that I'm independent,
E
F#
to have a man is my choice
E
F#
To put it plainer, I got to have my own voice
E
I laugh because I find it funny
F#
Niggas always talkin' bout bitches
that sell for the money
E
F#
Now ain't that a bitch?
Cause on that same tip,
some niggas out to get rich
E
Off another
F#
E
Because they too goddamn lazy to work,
F#
the motherfucker
E
But choice, you take it for a ride
F#
E
No way, you better act like you know how
F#
E
F#
Fm
It's all about that pay
F#
Bitches got they niggas
lookin' better than they look
On this topic,
I could write a fuckin' book
Don't you know in this world
that it's ladies first?
So keep your motherfuckin' hand
out a bitch's purse
E
Tellin' me that you need a new peck jaw
F#
E
F#
New ties for your car, that ain't my jaw
E
New shirt, new slacks,
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new this and that
E
To set you straight, motherfuck,
F#
you need to face the facts
E
Tellin' me you need a coat
F#
for your wardrobe
E
If I got to bother, motherfucker,
F#
you'll be cold
Cause you ain't wrote no
E
F#
motherfuckin' rap song
You heard pipe dreams,
E
F#
now it seems you wanna bone
And your niggas,
E
they're supposed to be
pumpin' dope
F#
Thinkin' that you made it
E
F#
because you got a gold rope
Frontin', motherfucker,
E
F#
you need to park it
Ropes come a dime a dozen
at the flea market.
You can't fool me.
E
F#
No, not this time.
Listen to the rhyme
Fm
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E
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It's all about that pay
E
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E
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E
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E
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E
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E
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E
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E
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E
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E
I'll time.
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