| Now put your motherfuckin' hands up
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| Now get yo hands up, now get yo hands up
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| Now get yo, now get yo motherfuckin' hands up
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| Now get yo hands up, I count money bitch
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| I smoke Kush and sip lean like, fuck a pill
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| Couple fake release dates, but my bucks is real
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| My competition never knew what having nothing feels
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| ‘Bout to take hip-hop to trial, like fuck a deal
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| Rags to riches so my peeps never drag they feet
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| This all money marathon molds a masterpiece
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| That? |
| the button press recline the back seats
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| And I’m the realest nigga in it if you ask me
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| But that’s promotion, and I prefer publicity
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| So run and tell your homegirls, and get ‘em all into me
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| I got a swagger on stage you should really see
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| Gold stupid dumb chain, Ricky D
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| You can’t go against the grain when it’s meant to be
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| So hatin' me’s an exercise in futility, dummy
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| Women, power and the money, got it all
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| See me out and can’t take nothing from me
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| I’ma ball, I’ma pop, I’ma raise Emani in the lap of luxury
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| ‘Cause daddy ain’t no dummy, but
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| How can I prepare you for a world so ugly?
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| Gotta lace your baby Vuitton Chuck T’s
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| Life is an experience, enjoy that you can’t
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| Too much of anything will kill that, you must understand
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| It ain’t all about the money, it’s more about the Fam
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| And it ain’t all about yo momma, it’s more about your dad
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| That’s just a joke, now peep how I rise from the gun smoke
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| Pistol-grip-poetry my nigga get a dose, don’t stop
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| Don’t stop, no tick on my Rolex watch
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| I won’t stop, I won’t stop
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| Hood nigga out the hood gettin' guap
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| I can’t stop, I can’t stop
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| There’s no tick on my Rolex watch
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| Money and the power |