| Everyday I wake up I say a pray-uh |
| Thank the Lord for the fact that nigga hey-uh |
| Round of a applause, got a lot of work to spay-uh |
| Transactions bring that paper upstairs |
| Gotta make sure all that money there |
| I don’t play when come to them onions |
| Take them ones to the bank, I need hunnids |
| No fives and tens, I don’t want it |
| I ain’t trying to be a bastard |
| But coming with straight Benjis made the counting process faster |
| I’m a trapper, weed dealer |
| My everyday watch is a Sea Dweller |
| I see cheddar |
| Going for the gusto with no regrets on what I coulda been |
| I put it in, ringleader of the shadow government |
| My last rap check I bought pounds of good |
| This next one’s to get my moms out the hood |
| She working to pay the bills and I’m working to have a chill |
| Til then I’m playing the field tryna get this chicken for real |
| Shit is wicked on these mean streets |
| None of my friends speak, we all tryna win |
| But then again |
| Ambition turn to anger |
| And there you have it, best friends turn to strangers, uh |
| Right |
| I let it go and let my chips stack |
| My nigga got caught for some work but we ate better of the git back |
| It might as well have been gift wrapped |
| The number one rule don’t leave no work where your kids at |
| Cause it’s the hustle gang these streets ain’t right |
| Stash in another crib and keep my heat up high |
| Road to the riches to the top of the mountain |
| Say «goodbye» to being poor, say «hello» to accountants |
| Cop my bitch a big Birkin and some kush and Loboutins |
| Shout out to that scale that helped me weigh out them ounces |
| Watch out for the leeches and? waveriders and hoes |
| That come over sober with alterior motives |
| Weed out the fake friends |
| Shit be all good when they in |
| That’s your man tell him no for something see then |
| Shouts to the cats that expect nothing from me |
| Different number same jersey |
| We used to fight for building blocks |
| Now we fight for blocks with buildings that make a killing |
| So we could cop coupes remove roof poof ceiling |
| Fresh off the stoop ten inch boots, God willing |
| A nigga see tomorrow, dodging tips that’s hollow |
| Yea I drink a lot but never pride swallowed |
| Gripping on my bottle from the home of Apollo |
| You could wear the wire while I move like Marlo, harpo |
| Was what a nigga pushing for as I cook the raw |
| Shit you could tell nigga just look at me then look at y’all |
| Key and ivory weigh ins I’m low down, dirty? |
| Pay attention and you’ll get just what I’m saying |
| Coming of age as I’m stuck in my ways |
| Where I’m from to get your name rung you gotta keep your hand gun |
| Can I live nigga? Is you friend or foe |
| I live by these three words--money cash hoes, it’s Lo |