Lyrics
Say, look here man I'm a rapper
Hold up, let me take that back
I make rap music
But that don't mean all a nigga do is rap
But that don't matter I've
Been labeled, stigmatized, stereotyped
There's an entertainment disease
Worse than cancer a venereal type
I spit imperial-type game like
Digga from the Sqaud
But they act like they can't separate
A real nigga from the fraud
Rule number one: never send a boy
To fuck a grown ass lady
And respect the game cause the
Game is known to be gone fast baby
Now It's a long pass maybe you
Should try diving for it
Fools act like they striving for it hit
Total Request Live and blow it
Knowing ain't a giving and nothing is
See all this candy-coated and
Bluffing is detrimental
To our beautiful black southern kids
Enough of this man
Let's get this here straight like creases
It's a never-ending cycle and
Motion that never ceases
It's compresses and releases and for
The love of Jesus it's breaks the soul
Now we forever left to pick up
The pieces it's dirty money
Niggas laughing but ain't a damn thing funny
You gotta have paper in this
Land of milk and honey
Yeah, it's bright outside but
Not nessicarily sunny
And no matter how you make it
It's all dirty money baby

Every drug I sold was for the dirty money
Most of my niggas is dead
Because the game is funny
You could get your life took at
The drop of the dime
But I'mma pimp till the end and
Keep my money on mind
Most of my life I've been broke
Trying to save my bread
I never ask to be hustling now
I watch out for feds
Cause niggas be talking and giving up game
About the cheese, the green, the pills
The coke D's
I married my pockets, so now I chase my green
Keep a thang for the haters with the red beam
Every since fifteen I've been
A big money fiend
Sippin' cold codeine and pulling up clean
Popping up at the spot and dropping the top
And keep a bad yellow 'bop with
My dick on rock uh!

You can't get no house, no car
No weed, no bar, no flash, no show
No class, no flow, no help, no love
No liquor, no drug, no clique, no crew
No tracks to flow to, no pager, no phone
No flavor, no zone, no fiend, no cut
No wife, no slut, no name
Nowhere in the game to get me five
No nothing without that dirty ass M-O-N-E-Y

My momma taught me what the value
Of a dollar should be
But everybody I saw balling
Was rolling selling Keys
In the late 80's niggas pulling up on D's
Putting dick up in these hoes
And making 'em pay fees
Learn how to ride dirty cause
Ain't shit for free
Then all them niggas got popped that's
All I needed to see
For some the dope game cool cause
That's all that they could be
I know God ain't put me down here
Just to be serving no fiends
I know God ain't put me down here
Just to be serving no fiends

Copyright: Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.
Writer(s): Bernard James Freeman, Chad L Butler, Joseph Johnson




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