| I’ll hold my business, please mind yours
|
| Mum’s like «Pres, remember your chores»
|
| There’s so much on the game, I don’t wanna look at the scores
|
| I’ll hold my own, please hold yours
|
| I rang the bell, but I never came through doors
|
| There’s so much on my name, I forgot yours
|
| I’ll hold my business, please mind yours
|
| Mum’s like «Pres, remember your chores»
|
| There’s so much on the game, I don’t wanna look at the scores
|
| I’ll hold my own, please hold yours
|
| I rang the bell, but I never came through doors
|
| Hands on my money, nah rudeboy, I dug my claws
|
| Fam where you at? |
| I’ll be at the Costa
|
| These MCs can’t get on the roster
|
| President La Cosa Nostra, never ever been an impostor
|
| I’m from a broken home, 'nough of them man there are foster
|
| Just came back from the races, with a ting from Gloucester
|
| Such a performance, wow, she could’ve gave me an Oscar
|
| Ain’t got time for the antics, fix up your posture
|
| President T, when I come around please go down, he goes up
|
| Scarface over the phone but he never shows up
|
| Man bring terror to the stage, nobody ever blows up
|
| I’ll hold my business, please mind yours
|
| Mum’s like «Pres, remember your chores»
|
| There’s so much on the game, I don’t wanna look at the scores
|
| I’ll hold my own, please hold yours
|
| I rang the bell, but I never came through doors
|
| There’s so much on my name, I forgot yours
|
| I’ll hold my business, please mind yours
|
| Mum’s like «Pres, remember your chores»
|
| There’s so much on the game, I don’t wanna look at the scores
|
| I’ll hold my own, please hold yours
|
| I rang the bell, but I never came through doors
|
| Hands on my money, nah rudeboy, I dug my claws
|
| Are you zoning? |
| Are you zoning?
|
| When I come around, they’re all cloning
|
| Hands on jewels, none of them owning
|
| Born with the shape, no need for toning
|
| Turn up to war, never postponing
|
| I heard mandem are giving out P’s
|
| But word on road blud, them man are loaning
|
| Say you’re gonna say it to my face, them man are phoning
|
| I was in a band but, I never played the guitar
|
| Ten years in the game, nobody knows who you are
|
| But I weren’t phased, check my account, everyting raised
|
| Gave way the red string everyting’s haze, nah won’t go back to the ways
|
| I’ll hold my business, please mind yours
|
| Mum’s like «Pres, remember your chores»
|
| There’s so much on the game, I don’t wanna look at the scores
|
| I’ll hold my own, please hold yours
|
| I rang the bell, but I never came through doors
|
| There’s so much on my name, I forgot yours
|
| I’ll hold my business, please mind yours
|
| Mum’s like «Pres, remember your chores»
|
| There’s so much on the game, I don’t wanna look at the scores
|
| I’ll hold my own, please hold yours
|
| I rang the bell, but I never came through doors
|
| Hands on my money, nah rudeboy, I dug my claws
|
| Mind your business
|
| Mind your business
|
| Mind your business
|
| Mind your business
|
| I’ll hold my business, please mind yours
|
| Mum’s like «Pres, remember your chores»
|
| There’s so much on the game, I don’t wanna look at the scores
|
| I’ll hold my own, please hold yours
|
| I rang the bell, but I never came through doors
|
| There’s so much on my name, I forgot yours
|
| I’ll hold my business, please mind yours
|
| Mum’s like «Pres, remember your chores»
|
| There’s so much on the game, I don’t wanna look at the scores
|
| I’ll hold my own, please hold yours
|
| I rang the bell, but I never came through doors
|
| Hands on my money, nah rudeboy, I dug my claws |