Вершы: Lloyd Banks. Cashing In.

[gunshot]

[Intro: {DJ Whoo Kid}]
Whoooooooooooooooooooooooooohhhhhhh!
I'm back! {MO MONEY! }
Gang Green! {PART 3! }
Yeah! {"CA$HING IN"! } Yeah!

[Verse 1:]
Yo' boy's sick! - So move or the germ might touch ya
I'm at the rucker! - Burning them trees up like Usher. (whoo!)
When I teach you how to rap fam' - I'm in that black van (uh!)
Like Air Ones and Canaries the size of Pacman. {NONE STOP}
Who gives a fuckk if it's our brawl (uh!)
'Cause my dog got the windows from the 24 hours store. (shit!)
I'm on the verge of flippin'
Lord send me a sign! -'Fore I empty this .9 and leave the board drippin'! [gunshot]
Me and 50 are like Michael and Pippin
Ryu and Ken! (uh!) - Whoever you send - I'm a rip 'em! (g'eah!)
I'm added to {DAMN! } society! - Mainly with' my system.
Run and put em' in the truck - like a kidnapping victim. (uh-huh!)
I'm papa so they pushin' me harder!
My associates got interior motives like - wishin' his father. (uh-'uh!)
I figure! - I rather play with' these blades before I pass
Build a ballcourt! - And go buy Bentleys to go to crash! (3RD!)
I'm headed towards my prime with' metaphors and lines (yeah!)
And I compliment my momma with pedacures and wind. (whattup ma'?)
I'm line from line, the rap Einstein!
Pound for pound (uh!) I'm Tyson (uh!) - A.K.A (uh!) Icyin'. (whoo!) {Whooooo! }
Message for the record I ain't sleepin' for a second. (uh!)
So even if I make it there's a tool under the pillow. {GOD-... } [gun cocks]
I'm brought up! {DAMN! } - To the V with' a poolish from the window,
I'm a smoker! - So the brokas won't leave us with the Indo. (oooooooooooohhh!) [gunshot] {Whoooo! }
I'm always with' a pair! - 'Fore the crew looks for the bimbo,
A dead meats in your daughter, I'll fuck her and won't support her. (uh-huh!)
I'm matching on the pedal
Smile from ear to ear; middle finger in the air - before I catch her eye! (fuck you nigga!)
Keep rydin' behind your tens fuck! (fuck!)
Niggas don't know; no better. - They'll rob you for the Rhinestones and your pimp cup.
They goin' off if we say:
"Niggaz is runnin' off from my buzz. - Faster than Jamaicans in the relay."
I'm blowin' the Kush! - Driving lazy in the lane
Yelling money ain't a fame, (uh!) like Jay-Z (uh!) and Jermaine. (uh!) {HAHA! }
About 80 (uh!) on the chain (uh!) like Brady (uh!) with' the aim (uh!)
I'm the same! - Whether the Mercedes or the train. (OOH! OOH!)
And I may be on a plane - by the end of the night. But it's aight throw;
I might throw! - I'm rich off a mic hoe! (uh-huh!) {Whooooo! }
My stamina's low - X-Rated is my type so
I keep the crib packed in, no telling where it might go.
Living room! Dining room! (uh!) Bedroom! (uh!) Bathroom! (uh!)
Upstairs! (uh!) Nuts smared, all over your Sasoon. (ooooooooooooooooooohhhhhh!) {NONE STOP! }
Ya on that fly shit! - That SouthSide shit!
Thet I'm a sell on these 10 million before I die shit. (SouthSiiide!) [shot]
I'm from the block; where the heafers be. (uh!)
To doing shows out in Pinkston when they rocking where your peppers see. (ha!)
And being gangsta ain't enough - a lil' nigga that's stuntin',
Will put a killa in a box like Chuck! - CH'EAH! [gunshot] {Whoooooooooooo! }