Money on My Brain

'95, Keep it live, yeah, to make papers, you know what I'm sayin'?

Motherfuckin' Kool G Rap, the B-1, and my motherfuckin' man Grimm

He's comin' with somethin' to kick the brainstem

Word up, word up, man, word, '95

Ladies and gentlemen, word up

It's big one, son, Jamaica, Queens is the turf

And I'ma exploit Heaven and Earth for what it's worth

It's the MC extraordinaire, the jewels glare, the God is rare

I'm takin' bitches back to my lair

I want mines and yours, strippin' niggas to they drawers

No probable cause, with the chrome double-fours

It's the Queens New Yorker with a bulletproof parka

In '84, it was Calvins and British Walkers

Now I'm sippin' Harveys Bristol Cream with the Glock 17

As the sirens race to the scene

Tryna get dough like Pablo, today, fuck tomorrow

Seats Recaro, 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

Paraphernalia and material makes the crew imperial

I'm puttin' 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 niggas deaded and wetted, don't forget it

Money's the metal and my hand is magnetic

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 bring fame to my name

Money's on my motherfuckin' brain

Niggas be schemin' 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

Cryin', hopin' God forgive me for the ones I killed

But until still, I drop my eyes with hundred-dollar bills

Like McDonald's, makin' mills servin'

Fuck a Land Cruiser now, 'cause I got

Two Suburbans (From Staten Island)

Stressed out, sittin', thinkin' past bedtime

Scared, can't sleep, nightmares about Fed time

Diamonds, linens, ostrich and all that

Fat shit, I talk in 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 (Right)

Cuties every color, who I wanna fuck next?

Buy a new car, maybe Lamborghini truck 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

I gotta flip these bricks 'cause bein' broke drive me insane

Money's on my motherfuckin' brain (Yeah, you know it)

From O-Z's to ki's, the triple beam bring fame to my name

Money's on my motherfuckin' brain (Motherfuckin' right)

Niggas be schemin' and teamin', but still, I maintain

Money's on my fuckin' brain (Yeah, let's keep it together)

'Cause money and murder go hand in hand, it ain't nothin' but a game

Money's on my motherfuckin' brain (Represent this thing)

I'm sportin' flavors and Timbs, a '95 Benz with the chrome rims

Presidential Rolex, two-carat diamonds with the snow gems

Pockets filled with lucci, leather wallets designed by Gucci

Party in restaurants, eatin' shrimp, scampi, and sushi

Fly minks, wet icicles that blink inside Cuban links

Lookin' spank, puffin' stank, got loot like I'm doin' banks

Hundred-dollar bottles of Shammy, condos in Miami

From O-Z's up at the Grammys, the broke niggas can't stand me

Hold the flame, blow, hotel suites inside the Flamingo

It's on by the dingos, I step up and I'm rockin' Kangols

Straight up fakin' no jax 'cause all my crack shacks are jam-packed

My math stacks so that I'm on the right track like Amtrak

So stand back 'cause I'ma make whatever it takes

To shake Jakes or shoot snakes and

Bake more snowflake cakes than Drakes

Cut up your grill like I'm the Barber of the Ville

Steal like Gotti, bodies are found inside the harbor 'cause I'm ill

To sport, 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 Copacabanas, cock back the hammers

'Til niggas in pajamas get they wigs split like bananas

Same with the hotties, niggas 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

I gotta flip these bricks 'cause bein' broke drive me insane

Money's on my motherfuckin' brain (Motherfuckin' right)

From O-Z's to ki's, the triple beam bring fame to my name

Money's on my motherfuckin' brain (Paper, baby)

Niggas be schemin' and teamin', but still, I maintain

Money's on my fuckin' brain (Get the C.R.E.A.M.)

'Cause money and murder go hand in hand, it ain't nothin' but a game

Money's on my motherfuckin' brain

Word up, yeah, just that real shit for the '95, baby

You know it, fuck all you broke motherfuckers

Oh, you motherfuckers, nigga

Representin' Manhattan, yeah

Corona in the motherfuckin' house, dog

Keepin' it real, represent the Diamond D's

Word, big dude, keepin' it real for the '95, dog

Uh, yeah, kickin' that shit

Big ups to my nigga J Black, yeah

Long drop, pass that weed, fool

Underground motherfuckin' flavor, fools