Lyrics
Hah, what, how real is this?
Uh, uh, how real is this?
What? Uh, what?
We push the hottest Vs, peel fast
Through the city, play Monopoly with real cash
Me and Biggie and the models be shaking they sadiddy ass
And Prada be, something you cats got to see
And the watches be all types and shapes of stones
Being broke is childish and I’m quite grown
Run up in the club with the ice on, me and Paisan
Scope the spot out, see something nice and I’m gone
You cats is home, screaming the fight’s on
I’m in the fifteen hundred seats, watching Tyson
Same night, same fight
But one of us cats ain’t playing right
I let you tell it
People place yourselves in the shoes of two felons
And tell me you won’t ball every chance you get
And any chance you hit, we live for the moment
Makes sense don’t it?
Now make dollars
Cats pop bottles
Bone chicks that favor Idalis
And rack up frequent flier mileage
Gotta let it show, I love the dough, hey
I love the dough, more than you know
Gotta let it show, I love the dough, hey
I’m popping Magnums while Jigga bag something
Watch is platinum, got jet-lag from
Flights back and forth, pop corks of the best grapes
Make the best CDs and the best tapes
Don’t forget the vinyl
Take girls break spinals
Biggie be Richie like Lionel
Shit
You seen the Jesús, dipped to H classes
Ice project off lights, chick flashes
Blind your broke asses
Even got rocks in the beards and mustaches
Rock top fashions
Ain’t shit changed
Except the number after the dot
On the Range
Way niggas look at me now, kinda strange
I hate y’all too
Rather be in Caribbean sands with Rachel
It’s unreal
Out the blue Frank White got sex appeal
Bitches used to go, «Ewww!»
Still tote steel
I’m trying to see five mil
Off the single, for real
You ain’t fazing the amazing
While your gun’s raising, mine is blazing
See you on see me all talking to sweetness
Take it for weakness and leave quick
Blocker, Roc-A-Fella, Bad Boy collabo
Two MCs with mad dough, you know!
I love the dough more than you know
Gotta let it show, I love the dough, hey
(I love the dough)
I love the dough more than you know
(gonna let it show)
Gotta let it show, I love the dough, hey
Miraculous, pockets stay full
Niggas skip the bull 'cause we matadors
Snatch the P89s that we pack in the drawers
And we clap the doors of your Acuras
Snap like cameras on amateurs
Make you all dance, hold a hammer to yours
Jig and Big rock ice, no cracks or flaws
Everybody got a part to play, back to yours
Run up in your crib now, crack your doors
Watch the real players live, it’s a habit to floss
Play the charts like The Beatles, y’all adapt to loss
And toast Cristal on behalf of y’all
Too bad for y’all, ain’t too many as bad as yours
Truly, do we, we laugh at y’all
Little bastards y’all
Uh, uh
We hit makers with acres
Roll shakers in Vegas, you can’t break us
Lost chips on Lakers, gassed-off Shaq
Country house, tennis courts on horseback
Riding deciding cracked crab or lobster
Who say mobsters don’t prosper?
Niggas is actors, niggas deserve Oscars
Me. I’m critically acclaimed
Slug past your brain
Reminisce on dames who coochie used to stink
When we rocked house pieces and puffy Gucci links
Now we buy homes in unfamiliar places
Tito smile every time he see our faces
Cases catch more than outfielders
Half these rapping cats ain’t seen war
Couldn’t score if they had point game, they lame
Speak my name, I make 'em dash like Dame
I love the dough more than you know
(gonna let it show)
Gotta let it show, I love the dough, hey
I love the dough more than you know
(gonna let it show)
Gotta let it show, I love the dough, hey
I love the dough more than you know
Gotta let it show, I love the dough, hey
I love the dough more than you know
Gotta let it show, I love the dough, hey