| Yeah yeah…
|
| You know we always gonna come through
|
| Not playing no games or whatever
|
| Yeah yeah, that’s right
|
| Yo I’m up 4 in the morning making some new shit
|
| I just keep going and going when everybody quit
|
| I don’t stop I’m a fiend, way more than Rakim
|
| It’s not the mic that I like, it’s the song when it’s finished
|
| Niggas can’t seem to rock it, but I be in the pocket
|
| Your rap doesn’t flow with the beat, you need to stop it
|
| They buying into my story because my shit real
|
| You never do what you say, that’s why you don’t sell
|
| I ain’t beefing on a record, somebody gonna die
|
| And you can beef about it when you read about in the Times
|
| Ain’t no bullshitting nigga I’m a rare species
|
| Every ten years they make a nigga like P'
|
| Imma slow it down, so you can hear me out
|
| And really really listen and see what I’m about
|
| You feel me on the right, you feel my on the left
|
| They feel me in the back…
|
| It’s all about the dough, that’s how we stay alive
|
| I like to see you try to eat and you ain’t got a dime
|
| It’s all about the dough, that’s how we stay alive
|
| I like to see you try to eat and you ain’t got a dime
|
| All I do is wake up and make hits
|
| At 15 I mastered the 16 bars, with some henny and a spliff
|
| Now you can’t tell me shit
|
| Give me one hour with a dope ass beat, and I’ll show you how to spit
|
| You ain’t got no war stories, nigga you ain’t got shit
|
| Because we ain’t trying to hear your little songs for the chicks
|
| And that bitch want it hard not a RnB thug
|
| She like it real rough, nigga you the sweet stuff
|
| Ha, cream puff nigga, I need you
|
| So they can tell the difference between me and you
|
| Yo I wake up every morning and I write a new smash
|
| I don’t do this for the radio I do this for the fans
|
| Do it for the block
|
| This is for my niggas that’s locked up in a box
|
| In the maxi max, that’s the penitentiary
|
| My pen will never cease
|
| Shit my pops gave ten years, to the federales
|
| From Georgia to Cali, He broke out of L. A County
|
| With the cuffs on, my pops was rowdy
|
| Then caught him out in San Jose, you know the bounties
|
| If you can see me now, living like the sallies
|
| Imma slow it down, so you can hear me out
|
| And really really listen and see what I’m about
|
| You feel me on the right, you feel my on the left
|
| They feel me in the back…
|
| It’s all about the dough, that’s how we stay alive
|
| I like to see you try to eat and you ain’t got a dime
|
| It’s all about the dough, that’s how we stay alive
|
| I like to see you try to eat and you ain’t got a dime
|
| Yo we gonna get this money real quick
|
| Fuck what you talking about… |