[Chorus:Wais P]
Top notch players, rhyme sayers
n***a we don't do favors, you gotta pay us
Ten thousand (more), twenty thousand (more)
Thumbing through hundreds, can't stop counting
Drug money (d**), ho money (hoes)
Whatever as long as it's your money
Get off my corner, this grow money
You can't sell around here, you get no money
[Verse 1:Wais P]
f** a- ah
I was told to walk with Jesus, I spark with the heaters
I talk to the non-believers through the speakers
Either get in line or get low
I get in shorty's mind, turn a square into a ho
I f** with real players that sniff blow and get dough
Turned from a rapper to a pimp, I'm a schizo
Superman without the krypto, you get no love
I tip toe let the fifth blow slugs
I put mink on the rug, ‘chilla on my back
My hand around her throat till she deliver me a stack
Where my real n***as at?
I figure that my fanbase push Cadillacs, nothin but MACs
Weight holders and money folders surrounded by soldiers
I never sober cause I know I ain't living to be much older
I'm so colder, you're so over
My flow's nova, you're like the dirt on my shoulder
Brush it off
[Chorus]
[Verse 2:Sauce Money]
Sauce Money, mum's the word, I just come to serve
All of a hundred birds
You run with herbs, my thugs elite
Hold your block down, when I squeeze you hug the street
All that ride talk'll get you is homicide chalk
And candles when you kiss that sidewalk
I'm a don with a plan that disappears at night like Akon with a tan
Stacks in the palm of my hand
Competition wishing they me
I did in one hour what took them till day three
n***a my fan base is the AC
Expensive grapes I taste lately, money make me feel like I'm 8'3”
Sitting on cash is how you paint me
There's no wonder that you feel that you ain't me
[Chorus]