Lyrics:
do Sanaa Lathan
Fire Satan, God body, I got the choir hatin'
Rich and rude, plus my lifestyle is ravishing
Laying wood on your wife
I swear it's
(you'ont believe your ears)? And you'ont believe your eyez (you'ont believe your eyez)?
Ain't see me comin' (ain't see me comin')? Caught ya by surprise (by
nigga
Now I'm the big ballin' nigga
Comin down grippin' wood
Keepin these motherfuckin' bitches
Callin' nigga
I used to be the smallest nigga
Now I'm
to you spit your rap someone else wrote
Used to get beat up by the big kids
Used to let the big kids steal my big wheel
And I wouldn't do shit but just
too sweet, on top, put a cherry (ayy, ayy)
Dick so big that I fucked your bitch (why? ayy, yeah)
And I made her bleed like her name Kerry (ayy, ayy,
sometimes man ridiculous
Life can be sometimes ridiculous
I'm so appalled Spalding ball
Balding Donald Trump, takin' dollars from y'all
Baby your fired,
City girls just seem to find out early
How to open doors with just a smile
A rich old man
And she won't have to worry
She'll dress up all in lace
City girls just seem to find out early
How to open doors with just a smile
A rich old man
And she won't have to worry
She'll dress up all in lace
need a few raps when you comin with cheese
And the people you come up with, they be comin to me
We got the city under siege
Where the tightest ladies
called, Edutainer
You'll find the law of balance on the two turntables
So look out for the FRESH Edutainer label
[KRS-One]
Biddi-by-by, by
hands
Just did a stick-up, just got picked up
One dead punk, killed by the man
New York New York big city of dreams
And everything in New York
Racks on racks comin up up
All this clout comin up up
Got your girl comin up up
Whole team comin up up
Cant block my blessings
I talk to god in
hands
Just did a stick-up, just got picked up
One dead punk, killed by the man
New York New York big city of dreams
And everything in New York
Big grind I'm stuntin'
Big grind, big grind, big grind, big grind
Yeah I'm comin'
Big talk
That subject bout that money
Since a youngin'
Them young
ain't no fuckin' rapper (woo)
He say he get them 'bows for cheap, ooh, he a big capper (why you cap?)
'Cause every time I ask him where they at, he
other New York rappers
Jay-Z of Hawaiian Soapy fame, Big Little whatever
And several other corny sounding motherf***ers
are understandably shaken up by
I put on, I put on, I put on, I put on
I put on for my city, on, on for my city
I put on for my city, on, on for my city
I put on for my city, on,
to take a nigga soul away, beg your pardon
Big body Rolls give me road rage
Swervin' in an Aston Martin, nigga, beg your pardon
Heard somebody said I
to take a nigga soul away, beg your pardon
Big body Rolls give me road rage
Swervin' in an Aston Martin, nigga, beg your pardon
Heard somebody said I
I got a lot on my wrist
Killin em one at a time
Scratching em off my list
I’m comin dine from the city of
Syrup
I say I love you I give you my word
need a few raps when you comin with cheese
And the people you come up with, they be comin to me
We got the city under siege
Where the tightest ladies
Just Dance
RedOne konvict
Gaga (Oh oh, eh)
I've had a little bit too much, much
(Oh, oh, oh oh)
All of the people start to rush
(Start to rush by
to have big dreams of bein really fuckin rich
Still have big dreams of being really fuckin rich
This that love song for these motherfuckin trap niggas
One
That Rich Gang lifestyle (lifestyle)
Marble floors, gold toilets and chandeliers (you underdig?)
Big money, nigga
Take the jet
L.A., hit the bity
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