Now... what y'all wanna do?
Wanna be
ballers? Shot-callers?
Brawlers -- who be dippin in the Benz wit the
spoilers
On the low from the Jake in the Taurus
Tryin to get my
hands on some Grants like Horace
Yeah livin the raw deal, three course
meals
Spaghetti, fettucini, and veal
But still, everything's real
in the field
And what you can't have now, leave in your will
But
don't knock me for tryin to bury
seven zeros, over in Rio Dijanery
Ain't nobody's hero, but I wanna be heard
on your Hot 9-7 everyday,
that's my word
Swimmin in women wit they own condominiums
Five plus
Fives, who drive Millineums
It's all about the Benjamins, what?
I
get a fifty pound bag of ooh for the mutts
Five carats on my hands wit
the cuts
And swim in European figures
Fuck bein a broke nigga
Verse Two: Jadakiss (overlaps last two lines of Puff Daddy)
I want a all chromed out wit the clutch, nigga
Drinkin malt liquor,
drivin a Bro' Vega
I'm wit Mo' sippers, watched by gold diggers (uhh)
Rockin Bejor denims, wit gold zippers (c'mon)
Lost your touch we kept
ours, poppin Cristals
Freakin the three-quarter reptiles (ahahah)
Enormous cream, forrest green -- Benz jeep
for my team so while you
sleep I'ma scheme (that's right)
We see through, that's why nobody never
gon' believe you
You should do what we do, stack chips like *Hebrews*
Don't let the melody intrigue you (uh-uh)
Cause I leave you, I'm only
here
for that green paper which lead you
Verse Three:
Sheek
I'm strictly tryin to cop those, colossal sized Picasso's
And have papi flip coke outside Delgado's (whoo!)
Mi