Lyrics:
down those same few rites
Round and round the clock landin' dollars in the bank
While their chubby little tots coo and stand
Maybe I'm the biggest sham
So I apologize (apologize)
For comin' to the studio and seein' dollar signs (dollar signs)
Instead of bein' real with y'all, like how I'm traumatized
of the rich man
I've been living this poor – well
I guess for
Forever, and I bet I will forever more
Barely eking by
Seeking out the dollar stores
For
all, young nigga
Already caught him two bodies
He itchin' for more
Yeah, nigga, we still in the
Trenches, scope on the stick
I can hit you from distance
that poolroom hung like a fog
When he talked it sounded like a growling dog
He said, "Would you care for a dollar on the five or nine?"
Now this man
had more guidance, for real
Too many niggas in cycle of jail
Spending they birthdays inside of a cell
We coming from a long bloodline of trauma
We
with the guys
Every time I speak to you you got something to say
According to you I'ma speed crushing all day
All I'm askin you for is to be more
man I'm praying for you
We used to stay up all night countin' dollar for dollar
You was my son's godfather, where the fuck is your honor?
Can't even
COULD
BUT THEY WON'T CAUSE THEY KNOW
SEE WE LIVE BY THE SAME CODE
BITE THE HAND THAT FEEDS AND YOU STAY BROKE
WANNA MAKE MORE?
HOLLA AT A G
I'LL SHOW YOU
"I, uh, I know a guy"
Started by a friend
"Let me try! Gee"
Marty's story is like many of the others'
Big stakes - worth taking a few chances for
Birds
Moneybags under my eyes like a Sum Bih
Dollar signs on my mind make me cum quick
Ain't wasting no time for no bum bitch
All these hoes on my line cause that
People come through for a few cold waters and
A lottery ticket, just a part of the routine
Everybody's got a job, everybody's got a dream
They gossip,
Yeah yeah, cheers
Chug a few of these hot beers
Mostly rep for my true
Thuggers who's not here
Physically, spiritually or mentally
Even heathens
Little more effects
And I can't resist
So we get funky in the house
You know what I'm sayin'?
L.L. Cool J style
What?
This ain't on a pop tip
Little more effects
And I can't resist
So we get funky in the house
You know what I'm sayin'?
L.L. Cool J style
What?
This ain't on a pop tip
Little more effects
And I can't resist
So we get funky in the house
You know what I'm sayin'?
L.L. Cool J style
What?
This ain't on a pop tip
dollars to their families
Still few know her name
She was Red as the blood
That flows through my veins
Spirit strong as the rails that carry the trains
She
up by a nigga, I served twice
He got picked up, then he bitched up
Like he was 'bout to serve life
I turn dope to dollars, how you explain that?
in my veins
I can't keep up the pace
A few more neighbors in the overpass
Passed out with a pulled down mask
Passing by the freeway crash
Bodies still
blunt for?
Did you fuckin' fall off, chump? Or did you jump?
Or did you just become more
Been into a funk, I just become morbid
And more self-absorbed in
they fellas be lookin' to take
You under. it seems like the more that we get,
You come with that shit, lookin'
For ways to drive us insane, confusin'
nuts, then I (yeah)
Check my ball hair (what?), make sure it's all there (yeah)
Then call the pallbearer (yeah)
It's Music to Be Murdered By again, why
bikes outside than the Tour De France
But they're motor bikes, more advanced that are soaring by
Cops stop, wanna catch em, but they can't
Ain't gon'
the nigga that you put the chain on the door for
The nigga that you started changing the laws for
Orator of hard-core and more
My raps the portal for
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