| Shake them niggaz
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| Scary hours no money out, smash the Guinness Stout
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| Play the outfield, Lucille, switched cracks on shields
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| She’s a rich fiend, sacrifice her fam, shift them niggaz
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| to Queens, Guess jeans she charged thirty-five beans
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| Hit the cell phone, regulate with well known tone
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| A Wally kingpin, who also slam and strike edition
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| Whattup, Corleone smoke the bone Tone phone me
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| Whattup he tried to slang there, address him with chrome only
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| Grady with the gray beard, transport for him
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| Rockin Nike at? |
| Rastafarianburg, pipin that
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| Switchin Benzes, ten carat nigga with gold lenses
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| Frontin like he’s sittin on a lump he’s sittin on junk
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| You wanna pull a heist, draw guns and robberies
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| You wanna rock rep, step in yellow Wallabies
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| Names arraigned, the century fox, little glocks
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| Them niggaz with stocks, wail on your blocks
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| Rich lifestyle, small like an ordinary white child
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| But right now, Son is still shine, shed light now
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| Breakdown, liquidate God, fuck it grab the nickel plate
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| Spencer for Hire, tension when we mention Dryer
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| He’s a slave cop, behave pop
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| Blue suits who bay stop us blow that cat
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| at the Purple Haze spot
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| I remember stickin fiends at the one-six-ooh
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| when we was starvin, duckin five-oh, payin em dues
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| Times is hard in the slums I’m from, they got us barred in
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| We warrin and cage dodgin, rippin and robbin
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| Got the NARC sabotagin, slippin cracks in
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| your camoflougin, now you snitchin on the squadron
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| That’s somethin niggaz can’t pardon
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| City overrun by young gun with bad intention, and Wu-Wear garment
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| So I see no need to mention, the potency
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| of a sting from a killa bee, kickin the battery
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| out the back of them wisecracks
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| Distorted for your get high you hijack
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| These friendly skies ain’t for you, they for me and mine
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| This the year of the grimy nigga, ragtime
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| Keep these niggaz on the run, peep my Clan emblem
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| Iron Lung ain’t got to tell you where it’s comin from
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| Catch us swimmin with these sharks now, you rap villains
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| (I feel the same way you niggaz feelin)
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| We feel the same way you feelin, let it be known (let it be known)
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| What the blood clot you niggaz dealin, you crash dummies
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| Cash rules, still don’t nuttin move but the money
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| Aiyyo strongarm that kid right there with wavy hair
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| Billy Johnson, snatched him out his whip in Times Square
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| Took his Pumas, nameplate, dude lost weight
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| Summer eighty-eight, started a fight, that can’t wait
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| Ask Dorothy, same kid pussy up in Marsey
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| Blazin that Tad Rossi, up in the Marquis
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| He lost like a hundred ounces, Jake rushed his houses
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| Had him on the porch, ass no trousers
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| This souped up, individual stuck, the new stuff
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| Same kid cryin on the stand with Judge Cuffner
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| Kissed him with art num it’s three to nine style
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| Before he left he flashin his face like Denzel
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| Richard Dale took his Beaver, off the wall pullin his whip
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| Mussy dropped and split his wig with the heater
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| His safe butt was all fucked up, as he had me laughin
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| God you see how he was laid out, in the grass
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| with dirt in his mouth, Slim woke him up told him he wild out
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| Blood leakin from his teeth he smiled like he gunned out
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| Big bolo, stackin his shit financed a Volvo
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| He copped his shit from a small, coffeeshop in SoHo
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| He still pussy, he sell his dust up on the Lower East
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| Posin like he rappin out… |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Cash Still Rules-Scary Hours , by - Mathematics. Song from the album Avenging Eagles, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп