Money On My Brain (Album Version)

歌詞

Ninety-five, keep it live Yeah to make papers, knahmsayin? Motherfuckin Kool G. Rap and B1 and my motherfuckin man Grimm Just comin with somethin to keep the brainstem .. [B1] It's Big 1 son, Jamaica Queens is the turf And I'ma exploit, heaven and earth, for what it's worth It's the MC extrordinaire, the jewels glare The God is rare, I'm takin bitches back to my lair I want mines and yours, strippin niggaz to they drawers No probable cause, with the chrome double 4's It's the Queens New Yorker with a bulletproof parka In eighty-four, it was Calvins and British Walkers Now I'm sippin Harvey's Bristal Cream with the glock 17 as the sirens race to the scene Tryin to get dough, like Pablo, today, fuck tomorrow Seats for carro, as I recline in Monte Carlo I got the game down to a science, it's the clients that turn small time hustlers into giants Three course meal, waitin for my appetizer Blowin like a geyser, time only makes me wiser Paraphenalia, and material, makes the crew imperial I put the fear in you, sippin beer with two Handlin business properly, form a monopoly Storefront property, if not, another robbery I'm puttin forth the effort, murder's the method The steak is peppered Son when I let off you meet your Lord and shepherd Bloody money gets niggaz deaded and wetted Don't forget it, money's the metal and my hand is magnetic Chorus: Grimm, B1 I gotta flip these bricks cause bein broke drive me insane Money's on my motherfuckin brain From O-Z's to ki's the triple beam brings fame to my name Money's on my motherfuckin brain Niggaz be scheamin and teamin but still I maintain Money's on my motherfuckin brain Cause money and murder go hand in hand It ain't nothin but a game Money's on my motherfuckin brain son [Grimm] Cryin hopin God forgive me for the ones I killed But until still, I dry my eyes with hundred dollar bills Like McDonald's, makin mills servin Fuck a Landcruiser now, pulls a ? to Suburban Stressed out, sittin thinkin past bed time Scared can't sleep, nightmares about fed time Diamonds, linens, ostrich and all that Fat shit I'm talkin code cause my phone's tapped Crackheads worship me like I'm Jesus Uncle Sam can't stand me cause I'm fuckin all his nieces Cuties every colour, who I wanna fuck next? Buy a new car, maybe Lamborghini trunk next Look at the jealousy in the eyes of the roughnecks Bulletproof glass just in case they wanna buck Tecs A large ratio in this game dies But I'm flippin pies, til the Senate legalize Chorus: Grimm, G. Rap (same lines) [Kool G. Rap] I'm sportin flavors and Timbs, a ninety-five Bezn with the chrome rims Presedential Rolex, two carat diamonds with the stone gems Pockets filled with lucci leather wallets designed by Gucci Parlay in resteraunts, eatin shrimp, scampi and sushi Fly minks, with icicles that blink inside cuban links Lookin ?, brothers stink, got loot like I'm doin banks Hundred dollar bottles of chammy, condos in Miami Front row seats up at the Grammy's, the broke niggaz can't stand me Hold the flame low, hotel suites inside the Flamingo Just home by the dingos, I step up in em rockin Kangols Straight up fakin no jacks, cause all my crackshacks are jam packed My mad stacks, show that I'm on the right track, like Amtrak So stand back, cause I'ma make whatever it takes to shake Jakes, and shoot snakes, and bake more snowflake cakes than Drake's Cut up your grill like I'm the Barber of Seville Still like Gotti bodies are found inside the harbor cause I'm ill It's war, but no more kids are bein kidnapped, matter of fact ain't with the shit black, I was young when I did that There's dope in the Copa Cabanas, cock back the hammers So niggaz in pajamas get they wigs split like bananas Stable of hotties, niggaz with shotties catchin bodies Neighborhood John Gotti with more notes than Pavarotti Yeah, paid as a motherfuckin bank teller The Goodfella, I stay a motherfuckin drug seller Chorus: Grimm, G. Rap, B1 (G and B alternate) [ad-lib to outro]