| I don’t wanna blow my horn but it needs to be told
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| I had a scene to sit pretty by the time I got old
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| I got cheese but that doesn’t mean I got soul
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| I got black power and a black bank roll
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| Stank chicks, they sweat my knot and I love 'em
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| I got cheese, now to bone 'em I don’t have to drug 'em
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| I’m coolin', rock rulin', don’t like Glock pullin'
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| Block patrolin’s played out, I’m yachtin' way out
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| When I contemplate I skip rocks across the pond
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| Bought a queue of you cats a plane with a yawn
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| No harm’s inteded that means no foul
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| Cats with no dough, they got no style
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| I’m cheesed up, like grills for school meals
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| No one can test my cash dash appeal
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| I mean bubble glean lex loaded with amenities
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| Hold it, my bank account is bloated
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| It should be duly noted that a lotta cats are angry
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| Tryin' to spill the bills for thrills
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| And pockets get left stanky
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| Drinks all around, every weekend it’s goin' down
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| At the bar where scud is browned in French booze
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| Floozies lose it
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| Chasin' bucks where coochie gets absurd at times
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| So I didn’t wanna wait
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| Montego Bay, Tobago, or Monaco I gotta go escape the rush
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| My status is livin' plush, can’t hear the fuss
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| Like loot jammin' the ears of the def
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| Russell Simmons, the women I get 'em believe I’m shorter than
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| I met 'em on constant occasions
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| Due to big billies and they greenback motivations
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| All the ladies used to call me stupid, now I’m funny
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| And instead of runnin' from me, they attracted to my money
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| They say we have so much in common and they like the way I’m rhymin'
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| I know that they be sleepin' and reclinin'
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| On how I be refinin', my mansion is made of diamonds
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| Drivin' with my leg out of my sunroof whilin'
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| Watchin' those right turns
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| They want me to by groceries and hosieries
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| Plus the wanna know the Deez, makin' introductions
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| That concern me and they mommies, and they always treat me kindly
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| I’m thinkin' «yeah, you can buy me»
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| Written all over the faces — try me
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| And I do it, in this case I never wonder, why me?
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| I love the women, the women love me in return
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| I bust sperm in the shape of dollar signs
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| Jericho cosigns for Kyle and vice verse
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| I’m defined by my verse, it’s gross like net income
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| You win some, you lose some, not me son
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| I got more profit than the old testament
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| I’m livin' proof and evidence that hard work pays off
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| I bet G’s on both teams in the playoffs
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| I’m in luxury’s lap, stay stacked
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| Dapped up Daddy Warbucks for good luck
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| People get star struck when I’m doin' average things
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| I rock a mink and fly rings and keep my 'drobe dry cleaned
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| I’m self-imposing for hoes and hose
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| Like I’m pissed off water then my dough’s flowing
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| Like money, flag’s caught in a down draft
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| Never at half mast
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| I’m not in Mourning like Alonzo over his kidneys
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| All chickens be friendly when they with me
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| We could jet to Sydney
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| I got long dough and nice song flow
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| Knock you out with my knot like I hit a strong draw
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| Knew I was about to blow, got ready and was stackin'
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| I like serial with my thug passion, Known for my fashion
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| And playin' the loan like a mass man
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| And all my electronics made by taskin'
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| Cats who front get hit up wit' a trashcan
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| Little kids see me comin' they call me cash man
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| I’m rollin' lets start the tape like a car chase
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| Live like a star, eccentric with bizarre taste
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| I got a house in a far place, I don’t back down
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| I always stick to my point like a John Pase
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| (So cut and edit) I wouldn’t have done it
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| If I didn’t know I could get way wit' it
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| By the time that I jetted
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| I never fretted, I just bedded
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| A lot of opposite sexes, it’s like I had 'em on credit |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song got dough , by - Five Deez. Song from the album Koolmotor, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп