I Love The Dough (feat. Jay-Z & Angela Winbush) - 2005 Remaster

Y'all faggot ass niggas, y'all know how to get down

I love the dough, nigga, baby

(Yeah, yeah, get out of here with that bullshit, nigga), that's nothin', nigga

That's nothing, that's nothing, that's nothing (look at you)

Y'all already know the bait nigga, ah!

(Watch his face), yeah, yeah (watch his face), faggot ass nigga

Pass the chronic, nigga, you're talking all that bullshit

A hundred I fall better, a hundred I fall better

Hundred I do? Hundred I do? (200), it's a bet

200? (Aces, aces) 200? 200? 200? (Can I get a bet on the five a better?)

Five a better? What you got? What you got? (I got a C)

Nigga, you're-, woo! Brooklyn style, baby, Brooklyn style, ah!

Uh, uh

Uh, uh, uh, uh, what?

Hah, what? How real is this?

Uh, uh, how real is this?

What? Uh, what?

Uh

We push the hottest Vs, peel fast

Through the city, play Monopoly with real cash

Me and Biggie and the models be shakin' they sadiddy ass

And Prada be somethin' you cats got to see

And the watches be all types and shapes of stones

Bein' 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 somethin' nice, and I'm gone

You cats is home screamin' the fight's on

I'm in the fifteen hundred seats, watchin' Tyson

Same night, same fight

But one of us cats ain't playin' 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 flight mileage

Gotta let it show, I love the dough, hey

I love the dough, more than you know (uh-huh) (c'mon)

Gotta let it show (uh-huh), I love the dough, hey (what, what, what?)

I'm poppin' Magnums while Jigga bag somethin'

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, 'cept 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, "Ew!"

Still tote steel

I'm tryin' to see five mil' off the single, for real

You ain't fazin' (uh) the amazin' (uh-huh)

While your gun's raisin', mine is blazin'

See you want see me all talkin' to sweetness

Take it for weakness and leave quick

Blocka, Roc-A-Fella, Bad Boy collabo

Two MCs with mad dough, you know

I love the dough, more than you know (uh-huh)

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 (uh), pockets stay full (uh)

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 (uh)

Make you all dance, hold a hammer to yours (uh-huh)

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 you lost (uh)

And toast Cristal on behalf of y'all

Too bad for y'all

Ain't too many as (what) bad as yours truly (what?)

Do we (uh), 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

Ridin', decidin' cracked crab or lobster (uh-huh)

Who say mobsters don't prosper?

Niggas is actors, niggas deserve Oscars

Me I'm critically acclaimed (uh-huh), slug pass your brain

Reminisce on dames whose coochie used to stink

When we rocked house pieces and puffy Gucci links (uh)

Now we buy homes in unfamiliar places (uh-huh)

Tito smile every time he see our faces

Cases catch more than outfielders

Half these rappin' cats ain't seen war

Couldn't score if they had point game, they're lame

Speak my name, I make 'em Dash like Dame (we love the dough)

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 (ah yeah)

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