| No woman love me like the Hennessey | 
| It’s all about the 'yac | 
| It’s all about, uh, the 600s, property (Big thangs, nigga!) | 
| Take care of your kids, your momma | 
| The pussy you went up in, and the pussy you came out of | 
| Are the most important ones! | 
| It’s all I’m saying | 
| Aside from that, yo niggas, it’s all or nuthin' | 
| All or nothin', fuck all the bluffin', won’t let the po-po arrest me; | 
| Try to hit the deck to bless me | 
| But I’m still broke so I ride like Frank & Jesse | 
| But they can’t catch me. | 
| Breakin' niggas off like a sawed-off | 
| Comin' for the fetty, man; | 
| my millimeter bringin' better things | 
| When I pull, like a better bang, so if I have to, I’mma let it rang | 
| Gotta handle my functions, but an outcome, I have a somethin | 
| Instead of nothin', haters hold me down | 
| And servin' thru a stickup or somethin' | 
| Now I gotta pick up the pump and let it ride | 
| All or nuthin, step aside, or you can hit the paper big time; | 
| You gon' murder like strychnine, wit' a grip nine, sever bitch time | 
| Cuz I gotta mine, and it’s on | 
| You comin' up short like a million midgets masturbatin'; | 
| Masqueradin' as the most murderous madman militia | 
| My nigga Twista told me | 
| Monopolize, strategize, maximize, make money to win | 
| With career sinners enter center | 
| Turn ya whole placenta magenta, quintessential inventor | 
| Please, we C’s and B’s, VL’s and GD’s; | 
| Got OG’s, OZ’s, keys for these millionaire mo-neys | 
| Release your shells, my nigga; | 
| Knew the job was dangerous, when I took it, why’s a player | 
| From Keyser Soze y’all how to walk crooked, look it | 
| Got a sophisticated ho mob | 
| With assassin bitches that give my shotgun barrel blow jobs | 
| So when the four stickin out like a sore toe thong | 
| It’s no prob, vocally for sure squad, thorough man | 
| Gotta get that cash, gotta get that dough | 
| Stacks that you can’t float | 
| Kick in the door, we on the floor, come up off a G and 2 hundred mo' | 
| Gotta get that cash, gotta get that dough | 
| Shit, all or nothin', no bluffin', if I have to, I’m bustin' | 
| Gotta get that cash, gotta get that dough | 
| Stacks that you can’t float | 
| Kick in the door, we on the floor, come up off a G and 2 hundred mo' | 
| Gotta get that cash, gotta get that dough | 
| Shit, all or nothin', no bluffin', if I have to, I’m bustin' | 
| Nigga worthless to bones, like nickels to quarters | 
| Fallers to shot callers, all of gotta get the paper somehow | 
| For the school of the gun style, see me til the cops call us | 
| Hell brought us, to a situation where we gotta driveby | 
| Let the bullets from my nine fly, to murder who you was deprived by | 
| But I admit sometimes if it wasn’t for crime I’d | 
| Probably be broke and homeless while the start keep it low goin, homeless | 
| So I’m hookin up wit Ras Kass, on some shit we can stack cash | 
| But if I have to pull back a rag fast, on that ass nigga | 
| These savage streets full wit jackas, racists, crackers and cannibals | 
| So it’s understandable, why I’m half man, half animal | 
| Ridin' through the hood on my elephant like Hannibal | 
| See, I used to have dreams of fuckin' an R&B bitch | 
| And I used to dreams of bein' 21 and rich | 
| One outta two ain’t bad, though, now I’m tryin' to be rich by age 25 | 
| Inshallah, I’ll survive that new world abchao | 
| But you don’t hear me | 
| Gotta get that cash, gotta get that dough | 
| Stacks that you can’t float | 
| Kick in the door, we on the floor, come up off a G and 2 hundred mo' | 
| Gotta get that cash, gotta get that dough | 
| Shit, all or nothin', no bluffin', if I have to, I’m bustin' | 
| Gotta get that cash, gotta get that dough | 
| Stacks that you can’t float | 
| Kick in the door, we on the floor, come up off a G and 2 hundred mo' | 
| Gotta get that cash, gotta get that dough | 
| Shit, all or nothin', no bluffin', if I have to, I’m bustin' | 
| Homeboy, my game’s tight: | 
| I could talk the Virgin Mary out her panties the same night | 
| From a cocoon on the dark side of the moon | 
| The illest nigga existin', I know who you are: | 
| FUBAR, fucked up beyond all recognition | 
| In the middle of the ghetto I’m buildin' a casino | 
| Like Bugsy Siegel illegal employ niggas and Latinos | 
| Shootout wit the ATF and FEMA, to free C-BO, see dough | 
| They got me like Steven Biko, cept I pack vente cinqo | 
| Rowdy Los Angeleno, you got knocked the fuck out like Deebo | 
| Gotta get that cash, gotta get that dough | 
| Stacks that you can’t float | 
| Kick in the door, we on the floor, come up off a G and 2 hundred mo' | 
| Gotta get that cash, gotta get that dough | 
| Shit, all or nothin', no bluffin', if I have to, I’m bustin' | 
| Gotta get that cash, gotta get that dough | 
| Stacks that you can’t float | 
| Kick in the door, we on the floor, come up off a G and 2 hundred mo' | 
| Gotta get that cash, gotta get that dough | 
| Shit, all or nothin', no bluffin', if I have to, I’m bustin' |