[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]