Lyrics:
why this dollar ain't worth it
USD is a fiat, that's money that ain't working
What I mean by working?
Money is a tool to gain things that can't be
the lob
She eat dick corn on the cob
Did his bid got hit with fraud
Nigga diss know how that end
Save her name as 50 Cent lil bitch got hit by many men
Oh
lost my Grandma and my best friend
And missed the biggest funeral in my fam
To rock a show in Japan
(And it damaged me as a man right)
It's 5 AM in
cents
English pounds and Eskimo pence
You lot! What?
Don't stop! Give it all you got!
You lot! What?
Don't stop! Yeah!
Working for a rise,
anything from
The five-and-ten-cent store
You used to call me the top
You put me up on a throne
You let me fall with a drop
And now I'm out on my own
cents
English pounds and Eskimo pence
You lot! What?
Don't stop! Give it all you got!
You lot! What?
Don't stop! Yeah!
Working for a rise,
inspiration
You're my solid ground
In times like these
Love will pull us through
Baby, I know I can depend on you
It costs you forty-five cents
For
to the D Boys (drug dealas)
Neighborhood dope man
I mean real niggas
Thata make a dolla out a fifteen cents
Ain't got a dime, but I rides
and Indian cents
English pounds and Eskimo pence
You lot! What?
Don't stop! Give it all you got!
You lot! What?
Don't stop! Yeah!
Working for a rise,
every cent I deserve
Stacking this shit like the feddy reserve
Hop in the Chevy and swerve
Hopping the curb
I used to cop it and serve
Now it's straight
grilling at ya five guys
Fuck a 6-9 I'm trynna be a 5-9
Got extra clips for pussy since they got 9 lives
Get clapped by the .45 like you was a high five
trapping
Is that making sense ?
If it ain't making dollars
it's not making cents
I can't keep looking over my shoulder
While I'm getting older
32 zeds
said, "Photos: twenty-five cents each"
Black and white, saw a '30s bride
And two lovers laughin' on the porch of their first house
The kinda love that
Jeff comes back with his Technics 12
We slap high fives and start cause it's time to raise hell
Bam is right beside me, people rushin the door
Charlie
Elvis Presley
Or am I more like Prince
A light-skin king, only 5'6
Remember nights at the crib
When we'd record with only five cents
And even times
anything from
The five-and-ten-cent store
You used to call me the top
You put me up on a throne
You let me fall with a drop
And now I'm out on my own
anything from
The five-and-ten-cent store
You used to call me the top
You put me up on a throne
You let me fall with a drop
And now I'm out on my own
But now if you'd come
I'd welcome anything
From the five and ten cent store,
You used to call me the top
You put me up on a throne
You let me
Some cats grow by the laws of the wild
Some learn slower and lag in the mud
Some stand up in defense of a style
Some let the big dogs eat them up
I'm dopey by design
There's nothing on my mind
My brain is unrefined
I hate the 9 to 5
But I do it all the time
I knuckle down and grind
I struggle
the workers were in:
The factory was surrounded by a fence and barbed wire on top and on the bottom. And they have a chain-linked fence surround the whole
this hustla with street knowledge
9 to 5
Still fliping twenties on the side
Try to get by the feints
I'm making dollars out of fifty cents
Got
Line by line, time after time
Mind's runnin' constant so it's hard to find
A stable thing that I won't make a mess
What can I say, it's just
anything from
The five and ten cent store,
You used to call me the top
You put me up on a throne
You let me fall with a drop
And now I'm out on my
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