| Before the money, there was love
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| But before the money, it was tough
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| Then came the money through a plug
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| It’s a shame this ain’t enough, yo
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| Sitting back plotting, jotting information on my nation
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| Really started from the bottom, boy, cotton
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| But they still planting plantations, we keep buying in
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| Closed-minded men, pride is higher than the prices on your pradas
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| Balenciagas, balance my soccer with the henny agua
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| Me and my niggas tryna eat, you pussies empanada
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| The flow like plenty lava
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| With just a penny I could multiply my worth
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| And make you work for me for twenty hours
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| I swear these niggas love to copy, thanks for listening
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| This kid ain’t been the same since Biggie smacked me at my christening
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| Watch your tradition and please play it safe
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| Cause your position on the top is switching right in front your face
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| Rocking on this bass with rhymes, I’m bustin' out
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| He duckin' down, got some issues now, headed for your house
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| So put the pistols down, got that red dot on your nose
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| Who put the clown on lock, jaws like the blue knows
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| Froze, keep your mouth closed or you can see the solar
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| I got connections that guaranteed to see closed doors
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| You hear that underground sonar
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| The way I flows, this wisdom
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| The Pros been on a mission
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| Listen into the chamber, get hyperbolic
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| They raisin' max, I raise stakes to keep the brolic
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| My bitches is macrocosmic, pass the chronic
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| The mastered sonics is lightyears above your conscious
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| You’re novice, but I got notes that strike nerves
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| I promise your minds ain’t sharp like my swords
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| So cut the BS, and don’t worry where my jeans is
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| And PS: Your bitch a genius, learnt from my penis
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| I got dreams filling arenas and breaking brackets
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| Tend this racket, while I’m cracking a Serena
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| God damn, God bless the heaven that sent you
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| But now I’m breezing out, baby, cause my rent’s due
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| Shit is really real out here
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| I said shit is really real out here
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| Just trying to get a deal out here
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| I’m screaming cream
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| Who fucking with the rap supreme?
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| Joey Bad, the Big Preem came to collect the green
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| I got a dollar and a dream, know what I mean?
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| And I gotta get my mama off the scene
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| Cash ruined everything around me
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| They say money is the root of all evil
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| I see money as the route of all people
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| Cause we all follow paper trails, paper trails
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| And everybody gotta pay their bills, pay their bills
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| It’s the dollar dollar bill, y’all
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| It’s the dollar dollar bill, it’s the dollar bill that kills, y’all |