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Yeah yeah |
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This is a money-motivated song, man, right? |
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If you're allergic to paper |
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You might not fit in when niggaz gon' have do a caper, man |
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Yeah We ain't allergic to paper, man |
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So we gon' try to turn you niggaz around, man |
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Yamean? Yeah |
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We gon' try to motivate y'all to get your money |
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Cause we money-motivators [Verse 1: Dubee] |
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The way I steer up out this here bitch, so detrimental how a |
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PS real click with that double r [? ] partner 530, |
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I'm dirty, hate to say it |
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Represent turf tight and tight with major players |
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With mo' seasoning, suckers be sneakin in the circle |
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Urkle niggaz soakin every line, still ain't with the verbals |
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Get to hoppin hurdles like |
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Jesse Owens in the fast |
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Return-type tactics so quick shakin that past |
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In they entourage bitches be hazy like the samurais |
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Get the mullah, stay savage and suave |
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Now is that savage? |
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Well certainly |
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Still I keep it global |
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Multiple skyscraper paper, unknown total |
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Who we? Who that be? |
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Dubee, ask your peoples |
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I leave Sasqwatch footprints and keep it off the heezo |
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Cizzo please, it ain't no need in hawkin |
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Ain't no please believe, |
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I breathe [? ] back - yamean? [Chorus] |
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The way I feel about loot |
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Ooh, it ain't no doubt about it |
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I'm a thug [Verse 2: PSD] |
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Say how you do, sir? |
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Well, everything is everything, how 'bout you, brah? |
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Man, I'm tryin to get my paws on some loot, sir |
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If it ain't scratch it ain't shit, how 'bout you, sir? |
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Yeah that's the truth, brah |
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Say I'm a natural, call me 7-11 |
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Playboy, it's factual, |
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I stay high as the heaven |
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I'm like the castle |
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On the chess boards slide front to backwards |
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Up and down, side to side, boy, we at this |
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Me, Dre and |
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Dubee savages in the masses |
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They call my type of people roguish-ass bastards |
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I pull a babe in and tell her flip the matress |
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And get the cash quick |
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Now player listen, this ain't no test of your broadcast system |
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Them niggaz |
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PSD and them be comin with em |
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It ain't no puzzle how |
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I feel about my scrillas |
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Gotta feed my chil'ens [Chorus] [Verse 3: Mac Dre] |
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At the building, chilling, living anxious |
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Waitin for this bitch to deliver some papers |
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The same routine every day |
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Get hit then |
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I split the |
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Chevrolet |
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The 4 15's shake the mirror |
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When the E |
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B's quake couldn't sound no clearer |
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Feelin so cool in my old school |
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Ain't trippin off a bitch, |
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I need some mo' loot |
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Oh, you ain't know you better check my file |
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I get stupid doo-doo dumb, don't sweat the style |
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Me and my niggaz represent the real |
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Don't think we kill? |
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Bet a 100 dollar bill |
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I'm a leave a body, no leads or clues |
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Clepto committee, bitch, we some fools |
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Killas for the scrilla, sucker, can't you tell? |
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The real motherfuckers representin |
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Vallejo |
