[Produced by Dr. Dre & Mark Batson]
[Intro]
Dre, n***as think we're bullsh**ting
[Hook]
n***a try me, son, he best have the heat on him
Whip him outta his clothes, get to mopping the street with him
Well, I put your body in a bag, front on me, I'm on ya a**
I bring money to my n***as that bring d**h to my enemies
I bring money to my n***as that bring d**h to my enemies
[Verse 1]
n***a front on me, the goons and goblins come out
Bushmaster hundred shot, drums'll run out
They dumb out, you heard of me, they call me big homie
Me I make the register ring, I'm the cash cow
They make the hammers ring, they on ya a** now
Hair trigger, stare n***a, yeah, n***as'll flip
Six shot semi a**ault, let it off at your will
Here I is, where the money is, I still get biz
If D's know about the beef, you gon' still get did
It be your tombstone and your f**ing grave they dig
Have that a** in the precinct trying to talk to the pigs
I'm like Damien, n***a, when I start getting loose on ya
Closest thing to Lucifer, you think you got a noose on ya
I make it hard to breathe
I come with your hustle, air it out, make it hard to eat
Have you lookin' both ways like you crossing the street
[Hook]
[Verse 2]
Yeah, n***as send me the wrong message, we gon' f**ing k** the messenger
Your whole clique, hollowtips'll tear up the best of ya
This ain't the "Carter" n***a, this is Sparta
It's harder, I die and be a martyr, respect me like your father
Let off a clip or let a case off
I have your p**y a** running like a race horse
Follow orders now, Yay' shoot his face off
You can have one, blast one, it's mad fun
See how when you listen to me all of the cash gone
I was born with the tech, it's a birth defect
I was conceived in the bins, ended up in a Benz
This is what happens when have-not's turn into Sasquatch
Let the gat pop, boogie down on the back blocks
It's horrific, nah, it's terrific
I got it if you sniff it, go 'head n***a twist it
Get lifted, goddamn I'm gifted
[Hook]
[Verse 3]
Yeah, I tell 'em ride on 'em then they ride on 'em
Get the line on 'em and squeeze the .9 on 'em
Headshot, .40-Glock blow his mind on him
If they hating on the jux leave the shines on 'em
Now you can watch me, n***a, like the police watch me
I move proper, go ahead catch a shell trying to stop me
That 430 Spider, carbon fibre
And my dog is like Al Qaeda, natural fighter
Rapid fire, you're sweet like apple cider
The Mack'll fire, mask like Michael Myers
It's off the wire when I get on my bullsh**
No smiles, no laughs, you gets no pa**
You can explain to my n***as while they whoop yo' a**
My hands itch when the money comes, it's hard to explain it
Last time I itched like this, a truckload came in
Get money, get bread, that's what I do kid
[Hook]