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Uhh, uhh, uhh, uhh, uhh, uhh |
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Hah, what, I like this |
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Uhh, uhh, I like this |
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What? Uhh, what? Uhh |
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We push the hottest V's, peel fast through the city |
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Play Monopoly with real cash, me and Biggie and the models be |
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Shaking they saditty ass and parotta be |
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Somethin' you cats got to see |
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And the watches be all types and shapes of stones |
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Bein' broke is childish and I'm quite grown |
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Run up in the club with the ice on, me and Paisan' |
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Scope the spot out, see somethin' nice and I'm gone |
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You cats is home, screamin' the fight's on |
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I'm in the fifteen hundred seats, watchin' Tyson |
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Same night, same fight |
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But one of us cats ain't playin' right, I let you tell it |
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People place yourselves in the shoes of two felons |
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And tell me you won't ball every chance you get |
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And any chance you hit, we live for the moment |
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Makes sense don't it? Now make dollars |
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Cats pop bottles bone chicks that favor Idalis |
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And rack up frequent flier mileage |
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Gotta let it show, I love the dough, hey |
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I love the dough, more than you know |
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Gotta let it show, I love the dough, hey |
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I'm poppin' Magnums while Jigga bag somethin' |
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Watch is platinum, got jet lag from |
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Flights back and forth, pop corks of the best grapes |
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Make the best CD's and the best tapes |
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Don't forget the vinyl, take girls break spinals |
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Biggie be Richie like Lionel, shit |
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You seen the Jesus, dipped to H classes |
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Ice project off lights, chick flashes |
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Blind your broke asses, even got rocks in big mustaches |
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Rock top fashions |
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Ain't shit changed, except the number after the dot |
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On the Range, way niggaz look at me now, kinda strange |
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I hate y'all too |
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Rather be in Carribean sands with Rachael |
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It's unreal, out the blue Frank White got sex appeal |
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Bitches used to go, 'W', still tote steel |
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Trying' to see five mil off the single, for real |
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You ain't fazing' the amazing', while your gun's raisin', mine is blazing' |
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See you on see me all talking' to sweetness |
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Take it for weakness and leave quick |
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Blocker, Roch-a-, Fella, Bad Boy collaborate |
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Two MC's with mad dough, ju' know |
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I love the dough, more than you know |
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Gotta let it show, I love the dough, hey |
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I love the dough, more than you know |
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Gotta let it show, I love the dough, hey |
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Miraculous, pockets stay full |
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Niggaz skip the bull 'cause we matadors |
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Snatch the P-89's that we pack in the drawers |
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And we, clappin' doors in your Acuras |
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Snap like, cameras on amateurs |
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Make you all dance, hold a hammer to yours |
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Jig and Big rock ice, no cracks or flaws |
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Everybody got a part to play, back to yours |
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Run up in your crib now, crack your doors |
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Watch the real players live, it's a habit to floss |
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Play the charts like the Beatles, y'all adapt you lost |
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And toast Cristal on behalf of y'all |
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Too bad for y'all, ain't too many as bad as yours |
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Truly, do we, we laugh at y'all, little bastards y'all |
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Uhh, uhh, we hit makers with acres |
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Roll shakers in Vegas, you can't break us |
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Lost chips on Lakers, gassed off Shaq |
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Country house, tennis courts on horseback |
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Ridin' decidin' cracked crab or lobster |
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Who say mobsters don't prosper |
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Niggaz is actors, niggaz deserve Oscars |
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Me I'm, critically acclaimed, slug past your brain |
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Reminisce on dames who, coochie used to stink |
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When we rocked house pieces and puffy Gucci links |
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Now we buy homes in unfamiliar places |
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Tito smile every time he see our faces |
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Cases catch more than outfielders |
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Half these rappin' cats, ain't seen war |
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Couldn't score if they had point game, they lame |
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Speak my name, I make 'em dash like Dame |
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I love the dough, more than you know |
|
Gotta let it show, I love the dough, hey |
|
I love the dough, more than you know |
|
Gotta let it show, I love the dough, hey |
|
I love the dough, more than you know |
|
Gotta let it show, I love the dough, hey |
|
I love the dough, more than you know |
|
Gotta let it show, I love the dough, hey |
