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Intro: Too $hort |
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Man, what's up with these niggaz out here |
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Mad at us cause we on top |
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I love to see niggaz gettin money |
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Better get it while the gettin is good |
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Get it while you can, man |
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And stop hatin me, fuckin with my shit cuz I got more hustle than you |
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Get yours, get yours baby |
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Verse One: Dr. Dre |
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I'm seeing millions, niggaz dont understand |
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know what? Im makin moves, puttin cash behind plans |
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to blow up, will he style like this |
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everyday I parlay, sip Henne and Tanqueray |
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stay in the mix like Alezay |
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V.I.P., my shit parked valet |
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on the prowl again to get honies familiar with the smile again |
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some try to assault Dre, its still cavi |
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Im eatin steak while they struggle to break the slave mentality |
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I givin livin definition long as my hearts tickin |
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I fought and made the world listen |
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Whatever fly Dr. Dre invented |
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turn on the box and let my son watch these studio clowns on 60 inches |
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I push a rover, shit platinum before the sessions over |
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rap master with the Houston heat holder |
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these playas best to get they shit in check |
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cuz when I get my hustle on aint no playin with a full deck |
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Chorus: Ice Cube |
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Lord please, murda my enemies (Yeah) |
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Burn em at a thousand degrees |
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And lord please let me make mo cheese |
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Cuz I aint quite ready to leave (No) |
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[repeat 2X] |
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Verse Two: Scarface |
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Buck the whole world |
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meant that, gotta stay strapped |
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cuz 99.9 a niggaz, carry they gats |
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Super fist fightin shit might come down to dyin |
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When the time comes down for the tryin I got nine |
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reasons why niggaz shouldnt step in my face |
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with the nonsense, cause I'm always heated and you can taste this |
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Audi little something out the seams a my trousers |
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with no hesitation I got a team to come clown ya |
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I down ya, so let your people know what they face |
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with the type of individual thatll bomb a sub-station |
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Kaboom! and everybody dies outside |
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there aint no escapin the Reaper so dont try |
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Go ahead, close ya eyes, who the next to step? |
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Face down, hit, bleedin on the steps a death |
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Check yo self, you just been invaded by true soldiers |
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December 31st, 96 (the game is over) |
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Chorus |
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(I've got all my life to live, plus with all my love to give) |
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Verse Three: Dr. Dre, Scarface |
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Smokin weed I never trail, I lead |
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spendin dough, tripped the cost of a ride like it was pocket money, Gs |
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but these are the things real playas do |
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talkin shit is real things that the hatas do |
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I'm namin you |
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shit's thick, its time to run for shelter |
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I kept the word, things could happen to marks like it was helter skelter |
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Dear diary, I'm runnin outta pages |
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Fadin, in and out, takin purple hazes |
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The dazes, Revelations in the last stages |
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Red skys institute, the silent horns playin |
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Im prayin with tears in my eyes |
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Cuz Im tryin to make it into eternal peace without dyin |
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But they eyein my bank account with beams on my rover |
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the killa failed to launch his attack (the game is over) |
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Chorus |
