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What that ***** want God? |
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Word up, look out for the cops (Wu-Tang five finger *****t) |
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(Cash Rules) Word up, two for fives over here baby |
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Word up, two for fives them *****z got garbage down the way, word up |
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KnowhatI'msayin? |
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(Cash Rules Everything Around Me |
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C.R.E.A.M. get...) |
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Yeah, check this ol fly *****t out |
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Word up |
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(Cash Rules Everything Around Me) Take you on a natural joint |
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(C.R.E.A.M. get the money) Here we here we go |
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(dolla dolla bill y'all) Check this *****t, yo! |
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[Verse One: Raekwon the Chef] |
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I grew up on the crime side, the New York Times side |
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Staying alive was no jive |
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At second hands, moms bounced on old men |
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So then we moved to Shaolin land |
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A young youth, yo rockin the gold tooth, 'Lo goose |
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Only way, I begin to gee off was drug loot |
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And let's start it like this son, rollin with this one |
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And that one, pullin out gats for fun |
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But it was just a dream for the teen, who was a fiend |
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Started smokin woolies at sixteen |
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And running up in gates, and doing hits for high stakes |
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Making my way on fire escapes |
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No question I would speed, for cracks and ***** |
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The combination made my eyes bleed |
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No question I would flow off, and try to get the dough all |
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Sticking up white boys in ball courts |
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My life got no better, same damn 'Lo sweater |
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Times is ruff and tuff like leather |
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Figured out I went the wrong route |
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So I got with a sick ass click and went all out |
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Catchin keys from across seas |
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Rollin in MPV's, every week we made forty G's |
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Yo ***** respect mine, or anger the tech nine |
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Ch-chick-POW! Move from the gate now |
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[Chorus: Method Man] |
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Cash, Rules, Everything, Around, Me |
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C.R.E.A.M. |
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Get the money |
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Dollar, dollar bill y'all |
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[Verse Two: Inspector Deck] |
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It's been twenty-two long hard years of still strugglin |
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Survival got me buggin, but I'm alive on arrival |
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I peep at the shape of the streets |
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And stay awake to the ways of the world cause *****t is deep |
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A man with a dream with plans to make C.R.E.A.M. |
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Which failed; I went to jail at the age of 15 |
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A young buck sellin drugs and such who never had much |
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Trying to get a clutch at what I could not... could not... |
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The court played me short, now I face incarceration |
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Pacin -- going up state's my destination |
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Handcuffed in back of a bus, forty of us |
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Life as a shorty shouldn't be so ruff |
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But as the world turns I learned life is hell |
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Living in the world no different from a cell |
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Everyday I escape from Jakes givin chase, sellin base |
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Smokin bones in the staircase |
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Though I don't know why I chose to smoke sess |
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I guess that's the time when I'm not depressed |
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But I'm still depressed, and I ask what's it worth? |
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Ready to give up so I seek the Old Earth |
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Who explained working hard may help you maintain |
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to learn to overcome the heartaches and pain |
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We got stickup kids, corrupt cops, and crack rocks |
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and stray shots, all on the block that stays hot |
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Leave it up to me while I be living proof |
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To kick the truth to the young black youth |
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But shorty's running wild smokin sess drinkin beer |
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And ain't trying to hear what I'm kickin in his ear |
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Neglected, but now, but yo, it gots to be accepted |
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That what? That life is hectic |
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[Outro:] |
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[Chorus -- 4X] |
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*****s gots to do what they gotta do, to get a bill |
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YaknowhatI'msayin? |
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Cuz we can't just get by no more |
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Word up, we gotta get over, straight up and down |
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[Chorus -- 3X] |
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Cash Rules Everything Around Me |
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C.R.E.A.M. |
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get the money |
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Dolla dolla bill y'aauhhhaaaauhhhhahhhauhhhhll, YEAH |
