| All I respect is money bro
|
| That shit just trying to get this paper
|
| You know what I mean
|
| I ain’t got nothing else
|
| All I got is time on my. |
| time
|
| Yo
|
| Time on my mind with not a second to spare
|
| Want everybody from the ghetto to be a millionaire
|
| But to get that guap they gotta earn it
|
| Egos, they got to burn it
|
| Divide and conquer, gotta unlearn it
|
| We living in the days where the killers like prey
|
| Lions in my eyes they behead us for the pay
|
| We protest against yay
|
| With God we might’ve had it right, but godless I stay
|
| Born here, raised here, summers in J-A
|
| Get up at the same time getting money every day
|
| Mr. Officer we got the ears of the youth
|
| Staring at a king, I guess I would be afraid too
|
| How to kill a shadow is to shine a lot of light (shine a lot of light)
|
| People in every ghetto, you gotta know you’ll be alright
|
| So hold on, better days are here, my friend (better days)
|
| Only thing to fear is fear itself
|
| That’s where you’ll live (where you’ll end up)
|
| So hold on
|
| Africa, mother to civilization
|
| Hundred kids mobbin' out at Kennedy Station
|
| Unaware that they’re the descendants of Moses
|
| I gotta revitalize the hood 'fore my eye closes
|
| Young G’s please turn your cheek to the posers
|
| The OG’s suffers through the rightful and hoeses
|
| The clubs to the head so we can throw monies
|
| Sniff coke, pop pills to drop out and talk funny
|
| Every February you revolutionary as soon as march hit blow the whistle,
|
| back on the market
|
| Selling street stories make my brother the target
|
| Putting god first when you on the red carpet
|
| Each one, teach one, love your neighborhood
|
| But love the people more, we steady misunderstood
|
| I heard gunshots echo at the peace rally
|
| Why I’m a POI, what a burden to carry
|
| Depressin', stressin', underachieving
|
| Life make you question what you believe in
|
| People that you know become strangers, when money comes
|
| Unfamiliar actions when the money run low, everybody gone yeah
|
| Where the ghetto money though?
|
| It’s just you and got bills and your tax debts
|
| Profits you think you made, the IRS hasn’t taxed yet
|
| The system works for the hands of the architects
|
| Ultimately we prosper, no matter the hurdle
|
| Prove yourself with the actions and never the verbal
|
| Men cheat, women lie, numbers get doctored
|
| Stand tall, and be careful who you rock with
|
| So hold on |