tryna meet with money Ii??d be happy to connect ya life is, better than its ever been scheduling million dollar meetings with the president someone cut the lights, oh where is
uh Grocery bags on the counter no grocery store couldn't fit a half a meal in the Gucci tote Hit the lights watch the roaches say "Good Night" Spark twice, say "Good
a girl named dutchess And everytime we see her in da streets she b cussin I told em he should wave da black flag cuz she buckin He said the pussy good
If you're tryna meet with money I'd be happy to connect ya Life is, better than it's ever been Scheduling million dollar meetings with the president Someone cut the lights on Where is
my own thing Now I run the game, you stupid mothasuckas I see all this money through my Ohio state buck-eyes Shit been goin' good but good could turn
m a bad muthafucker, be very afraid Boy this heat will give your ass a raspberry beret Been in the building muthafucker we ain't never escape Cash Money is
I ain't no slave Don't be tryin' to sunbathe, never lived off in no cave Bloody old chap and in this head of mine is full of naps And the only thing I know is
keep it strong, while you scream word is bond Lying through your teeth, swearing on your first born Your word is weak, go hold a wake in this Hit you
-p-pedal down the foot hills Wheelies on the front I'm on the dyno with the black mags Black mags, Dyno with the black mags, black mags Black mags, Dyno
Ooh, hey yeah Do you know how to leave, ride...ride [Verse 1] Ya see, it started off in St. Paul from the street of Old Nash And it feels so good to
right here hoe East New York Uncle Murda feelin? good I hooked up with Jigga got my grandma out the hood Marcy is back now look at niggas Now they can
these police wonder: how is he so undercover? Never been a lover, but America had broke my heart I was told to tear up out this before this tear me apart
breath's the only rhythm and the tempo is my time My enemy is hopelessness, my ally honest doubt The answer is a question that I never will find out Is
writers who criticize they're fuckin' wit a freedom fighter Who raises flags and dragged the Klan in body bags I hung 'em up in Mississippi and bum fuck This is
slow Oh, oh, oh baby Fly slow Said it feels so good Girl when we fly slow Said my rocket is so full of fuel baby Yes it is, fly slow Therefore, we
hood When da rounds hit his ***, it ain't look so good Now he leavin' in a black bag He the roach, the Bris be da black flag And don't leave your dope
dead. Yo fuck regular cops niggaz get scoped by the feds. The ghetto live in bloodshed (yo), we live in bloodshed. I know this african cat jet black,
join the army of the warriors of darkness) Ne vois-tu pas ton cote clair qui succombe (Don't you see that your good side is dying) C'est ta destine