| Lyrics: | Verse One: Puff Daddy
Now... what y'all wanna do?
Wanna be ballers?
Shot-callers?
Brawlers -- who be dippin in the Benz wit the spoilers
On the low from the
Jake in the Taurus
Tryin to get my hands on some Grants like Horace
Yeah livin the raw deal,
three course meals
Spaghetti, fettucini, and veal
But still, everything's real in the
field
And what you can't have now, leave in your will
But don't knock me for tryin to
bury
seven zeros, over in Rio Dijanery
Ain't nobody's hero, but I wanna be heard
on your
Hot 9-7 everyday, that's my word
Swimmin in women wit they own condominiums
Five plus Fives,
who drive Millineums
It's all about the Benjamins, what?
I get a fifty pound bag of ooh for
the mutts
Five carats on my hands wit the cuts
And swim in European figures
Fuck bein a
broke nigga
Verse Two: Jadakiss (overlaps last two lines of Puff Daddy)
I want a
all chromed out wit the clutch, nigga
Drinkin malt liquor, drivin a Bro' Vega
I'm wit Mo'
sippers, watched by gold diggers (uhh)
Rockin Bejor denims, wit gold zippers (c'mon)
Lost
your touch we kept ours, poppin Cristals
Freakin the three-quarter reptiles
(ahahah)
Enormous cream, forrest green -- Benz jeep
for my team so while you sleep I'ma
scheme (that's right)
We see through, that's why nobody never gon' believe you
You should do
what we do, stack chips like *Hebrews*
Don't let the melody intrigue you (uh-uh)
Cause I
leave you, I'm only here
for that green paper which lead you
Verse Three:
Sheek
I'm strictly tryin to cop those, colossal sized Picasso's
And have papi flip coke
outside Delgado's (whoo!)
Mi |
