The Lox - It's All About the Benjamins lyrics

[Verse 1: Puff Daddy] Now... what y'all wanna do? Wanna be ballers? Shot-callers? Brawlers -- who be dippin in the Benz wit the spoilers On the low from the Jake in the Taurus Tryin to get my hands on some Grants like Horace Yeah livin the raw deal, three course meals Spaghetti, fettucini, and veal But still, everything's real in the field And what you can't have now, leave in your will But don't knock me for tryin to bury Seven zeros, over in Rio de Janeiro Ain't nobody's hero, but I wanna be heard On your Hot 9-7 everyday, that's my word Swimmin in women wit they own condominiums Five plus Fives, who drive Millineums It's all about the Benjamins, what? I get a fifty pound bag of ooh for the mutts Five carats on my hands wit the cuts And swim in European figures f** bein a broke n***a [Verse 2: Jadakiss] I want a all chromed out wit the clutch, n***a Drinkin malt liquor, drivin a Bro' Vega I'm wit Mo' sippers, watched by gold diggers (uhh) Rockin Bejor denims, wit gold zippers (c'mon) Lost your touch we kept ours, poppin Cristals Freakin the three-quarter reptiles (ahahah) Enormous cream, forrest green -- Benz jeep For my team so while you sleep I'mma scheme (that's right) We see through, that's why nobody never gon' believe you You should do what we do, stack chips like *Hebrews* Don't let the melody intrigue you (uh-uh) Cause I leave you, I'm only here For that green paper with the eagle [Verse 3: Sheek] I'm strictly tryin to cop those, colossal sized Pica**o's And have papi flip coke outside Delgado's (whoo!) Mienda, with cash flowin like Sosa And the latin chick tranportin in the chocha Stampedin over, pop Mo's, never sober Lex and Range Rovers dealin weight by Minnesota (uhh) Avoidin NARC's wit camcorders and Chevy Novas (uh-huh) Stash in the buildin wit this chick named Alona (uh-huh) From Daytona, when I was young I wants to bone her (uh-huh) But now I only hit chicks that win beauty pageants (ahahaha) Trickin, they takin me skiing, at the Aspens (c'mon) Uhh, gangsta mental, stay poppin Cristal Pack a black pist-al in the Ac' Coupe that's dark brown (whoo!) Pinky-ringin, gondolas wit the man singin Italian music down the river wit your chick clingin To my bizzalls, player you mad false Actin hard when you as p**y as RuPaul