Solomon Childs - Political Money lyrics

[Intro: Solomon Childs] f** it would have to be Trench runners, b-bonics (King of New York) Ain't nothin' commercial 'bout this (You'll like this) Come on... [Solomon Childs] Bout it, bout it to live large Solomon liver than the PBA card, I Allah master God Millennium rise, CPR's to fly And the seats hittin' four-fours, pay tolls Baritone, gettin' it wet like Kenny Latimore Lyrical bully from a later calling (that's right) Blazers who ain't never been to Park Hill (no?) Code of the streets: k** or be k**ed '89, gettin' money, police was mad dumb (y'all) Nickel and dimes in my mouth, my gums is mad numb (come on) Tall bars and rated R, ghetto life, k**as and courts, dirty poom-poom shorts This is for the k**as, million dollar ice grillas (what?) Thuggin' every place I've been, mi mama is a Dominican Mi papa representin' the Hondurans, you better listen to the chorus [Chorus 2X: Solomon Childs] Political money, dead presidents for the crew Clicks get money and don't know what to do Whether the skies are gray or blue Wit political money, I'mma do me, what about you? [Solomon Childs] Hell of a life, lyrical bully, millennium life Lord I'm so scared of life, look in my eyes, Lord Fires'll burn, trapped in the fourth term Forever reignin' in my hood, son Gotta eat straight live from my hood, son (what?) Real life, double eclipse, thugged out Forever f**in' a black b**h, twin beaters Layed up wit R&B divas, testimonies of a black Jesus All I got in this world is my life Levitatin' souls from South Central to Crown Heights PO-9 be tryin' to hold me down, baby mother trynna hold me down Hundred grand laced in sound, project trilogy nights Yo life is like a game of dice (uh-huh) So be ready for the comin' of Christ (what) Be ready for the comin' of Christ (what) New millennium thug life [Chorus 2X] [Solomon Childs] Throwin' no hitters like Dave Wells Solomon in the house gettin' them wet like L.L Political money, no turnin' back God This ain't a game God, this for real God Stop frontin' like you act hard, it's like I'm trapped God Mama's screamin', get money and relax God f**in' around and get ya smacked God Comin' all out of ya face'll get ya clapped God See me on the streets, you better ask God Solomon Childs, twenty six hundred, rosary beads and blunted King of New York, gorilla thug profile One love to Big Un, Frukwan, Big Dance, Skee-Bop N.W.O., k**as for flow This is what a thug about, girls in all complexions checkin' me out (checkin' me out) [Chorus 4X] [Outro: Solomon Childs] Get that money, cuz this, is everything we gon' need to get by And only this, hundred grand, trench runners, b-bonics Kickin' ya n***as in the a**