Текст песни Kool G. Rap f B1, (MF) Grimm - Money on my Brain
Kool G. Rap f B1, (MF) Grimm - Money on my Brain слова песни
Ninety-five, keep it liveYeah to make papers, knahmsayin?Motherfuckin Kool G. Rap and B1and my motherfuckin man GrimmJust comin with somethin to keep the brainstem..[B1]It`s Big 1 son, Jamaica Queens is the turfAnd I`ma exploit, heaven and earth, for what it`s worthIt`s the MC extrordinaire, the jewels glareThe God is rare, I`m takin bitches back to my lairI want mines and yours, strippin niggaz to they drawersNo probable cause, with the chrome double 4`sIt`s the Queens New Yorker with a bulletproof parkaIn eighty-four, it was Calvins and British WalkersNow I`m sippin Harvey`s Bristal Cream with the glock 17as the sirens race to the sceneTryin to get dough, like Pablo, today, fuck tomorrowSeats for carro, as I recline in Monte CarloI got the game down to a science, it`s the clientsthat turn small time hustlers into giantsThree course meal, waitin for my appetizerBlowin like a geyser, time only makes me wiserParaphenalia, and material, makes the crew imperialI put the fear in you, sippin beer with twoHandlin business properly, form a monopolyStorefront property, if not, another robberyI`m puttin forth the effort, murder`s the methodThe steak is pepperedSon when I let off you meet your Lord and shepherdBloody money gets niggaz deaded and wettedDon`t forget it, money`s the metal and my hand is magneticChorus: 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 killedBut until still, I dry my eyes with hundred dollar billsLike McDonald`s, makin mills servinFuck a Landcruiser now, pulls a ? to SuburbanStressed out, sittin thinkin past bed timeScared can`t sleep, nightmares about fed timeDiamonds, linens, ostrich and all thatFat shit I`m talkin code cause my phone`s tappedCrackheads worship me like I`m JesusUncle Sam can`t stand me cause I`m fuckin all his niecesCuties every colour, who I wanna fuck next?Buy a new car, maybe Lamborghini trunk nextLook at the jealousy in the eyes of the roughnecksBulletproof glass just in case they wanna buck TecsA large ratio in this game diesBut I`m flippin pies, til the Senate legalizeChorus: Grimm, G. Rap (same lines)[Kool G. Rap]I`m sportin flavors and Timbs, a ninety-five Bezn with the chrome rimsPresedential Rolex, two carat diamonds with the stone gemsPockets filled with lucci leather wallets designed by GucciParlay in resteraunts, eatin shrimp, scampi and sushiFly minks, with icicles that blink inside cuban linksLookin ?, brothers stink, got loot like I`m doin banksHundred dollar bottles of chammy, condos in MiamiFront row seats up at the Grammy`s, the broke niggaz can`t stand meHold the flame low, hotel suites inside the FlamingoJust home by the dingos, I step up in em rockin KangolsStraight up fakin no jacks, cause all my crackshacks are jam packedMy mad stacks, show that I`m on the right track, like AmtrakSo stand back, cause I`ma make whatever it takesto shake Jakes, and shoot snakes, and bake more snowflake cakes than Drake`sCut up your grill like I`m the Barber of SevilleStill like Gotti bodies are found inside the harbor cause I`m illIt`s war, but no more kids are bein kidnapped, matter of factain`t with the shit black, I was young when I did thatThere`s dope in the Copa Cabanas, cock back the hammersSo niggaz in pajamas get they wigs split like bananasStable of hotties, niggaz with shotties catchin bodiesNeighborhood John Gotti with more notes than PavarottiYeah, paid as a motherfuckin bank tellerThe Goodfella, I stay a motherfuckin drug sellerChorus: Grimm, G. Rap, B1 (G and B alternate)[ad-lib to outro]