Lyrics:
on a backend (backend)
Bitch, a big boss, call me CEO
Had my hitter pull up like it's Dominoes
Had to give me the brain like an honor roll
Got a bank roll,
big and rich
Yeah I'm gonna let it rip
Hey, just want to hear everybody say (rollin', rollin')
At the top of your lungs till the windows brake
like a hoop star
Black marble, white walls in my new spot
Four chains, big studs, a nigga too fly
Top down, tank top, I think I'm 2Pac
So I'm labeled
the negativity and control our creativity
The rich is getting richer, so why we ain't richer?
Could it be we still thinking like niggas?
Educate yourselves,
and I carried a big knife"
Every day is a chase, every day is a race
And every day you're being overpowered by my bass
Too much juice to be a deuce,
,
Yidle-diddle-didle-didle man.
I'd build a big tall house with rooms by the dozen,
Right in the middle of the town.
A fine tin roof with real wooden floors below.
There
like
Alright, work hard play hard, don't need no sponsor
Life of the party girl, you're sweet like sugar
Put the s in sexy girl, me love that figure
To be someone must be a wonderful thing
A famous footballer a rock singer
Or a big film star
yes, I think I would like that
To be rich and have
even thouh I went to college and dropped out of school quick
I always had a Ph.D., a pretty huge dick
Ladies tired of gettin' ripped off by guys like
hands up
And let me hear the party say
I'm kinda buzzed, it's all because
(This is how we do it)
South Central does it like nobody does
(This is
the biggest strike in Klondyke history"
Her dad met the bus in Saginaw, Michigan
And he gave me a great big party with champagne
Then he said, "Son, you're
Said she tired of lil' money, need a big boy
Pull up 20 inch blades like I'm Lil Troy
Now it's everybody flockin', need a decoy
Shawty mixing up
cake
I want to die like a rich boy diving
In a hydrocodone dream
You can die like a rich girl by me
Oh how the magazines will read
I 'll die like
-- all the days of my life
And I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever
[Notorious B.I.G.]
Niggaz in my faction don't like askin questions
mercy
I got heart, I rip the party apart
From the seams and hem up like bell-bottom jeans
But you get done, you get blues like 501
Brothers are live
latins goin platinum
Now we, in it lookin for the big peso
And my, song inspired by Elvis Crespo
And we, gettin it started so baby let's go
Nasty boys
alphabet city
She likes to party in the backseat, under the bridge on the Brooklyn side
Smoking cigarettes in the afterglow, taking bets till the sun
You're like a screen flashing insufficient funds
Cops knocking when the party's just begun
You're a big rain cloud parked over my boat
You're a cell
dumb rich
Hunnid round right in my bag
I got sick no slatt
I got Vetement jean nocap
Okay, big big big big slime
I got tech I don't want my pints
Check
bet I get that 80 grand wrist
Told me we could never get rich
Now watch me ride the Chevy hit the switch
Straight ballin' like a bitch
Aye, riding
you, look through to
Inner cities the rich won't move to
The nice parts, they well-protected by a vanguard
The opposite of how these concentration camps
a crook 'bout money, if you owe me better pay my money
So rich that I weigh my money and I look like money
And I don't really need new friends
So please
everyday they hear me saying rhymes
I got some friends, I got some allies like Stet and Big Daddy Kane
They know that by all means necessary that Peace is
was numbed by the nonsense
Gem Star razor and a dinner plate
Arm and hammer and a mason jar, that's my dinner date
Then crack the window in
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