text: Uhh, uhh
  Uhh, uhh, uhh, uhh, what
  Hah, what, how real is this?
  Uhh, uhh, how real is this?
  What? Uhh, what?
  Uhh
  We push the hottest Vs, peel fast
  Through the city, play Monopoly with real cash
  Me and Biggie and the models be shakin they sadiddy ass
  And Prada be somethin you cats got to see
  And the watches be all types and shapes of stones
  Bein broke is childish and Im quite grown
  Run up in the club with the ice on, me and Paisan
  Scope the spot out, see somethin nice and Im gone
  You cats is home screamin the fights on
  Im in the fifteen hundred seats, watchin Tyson
  Same night, same fight
  But one of us cats aint playin right, I let you tell it
  People place yourselves in the shoes of two felons
  And tell me you wont ball every chance you get
  And any chance you hit, we live for the moment
  Makes sense, dont it? Now make dollars
  Cats pop bottles, bone chicks that favor Idalis
  And rack up frequent flight mileage
  Gotta let it show, I love the dough, hey
  I love the dough, more than you know
  Gotta let it show, I love the dough, hey
  Im poppin Magnums while Jigga bag somethin
  Watch is platinum, got jet lag from
  Flights back and forth, pop corks of the best grapes
  Make the best CDs and the best tapes
  Dont forget the vinyl; take girls, break spinals
  Biggie be Richie like Lionel, shit
  You seen the Jesús, dipped to H classes
  Ice project off lights, chick flashes
  Blind your broke asses, even got rocks in the beards and mustaches
  Rock top fashions
  Aint shit changed, cept the number after the dot on the Range
  Way niggas look at me now, kinda strange
  I hate yall too
  Rather be in Caribbean sands with Rachel
  Its unreal, out the blue Frank White got sex appeal
  Bitches used to go, Ewww!
  Still tote steel, Im tryin to see five mil off the single, for real
  You aint fazin the amazin
  While your guns raisin, mine is blazin
  See you want see me all talkin to sweetness
  Take it for weakness and leave quick
  Blocka, Roc-A-Fella, Bad Boy collabo
  Two MCs with mad dough, you know
  I love the dough, more than you know
  Gotta let it show, I love the dough, hey 
  I love the dough, more than you know 
  Gotta let it show, I love the dough, hey
  Miraculous, pockets stay full
  Niggas skip the bull cause we matadors
  Snatch the P89s that we pack in the drawers
  And we clap the doors of your Acuras
  Snap like, cameras on amateurs
  Make you all dance, hold a hammer to yours
  Jig and Big rock ice, no cracks or flaws
  Everybody got a part to play, back to yours
  Run up in your crib now, crack your doors
  Watch the real players live, its a habit to floss
  Play the charts like The Beatles, yall adapt you lost
  And toast Cristal on behalf of yall
  Too bad for yall
  Aint too many as bad as yours truly
  Do we, we laugh at yall
  Little bastards yall
  Uhh, uhh
  We hit makers with acres
  Roll shakers in Vegas, you cant break us
  Lost chips on Lakers, gassed off Shaq
  Country house, tennis courts on horseback
  Ridin, decidin cracked crab or lobster
  Who say mobsters dont prosper?
  Niggas is actors, niggas deserve Oscars
  Me Im, critically acclaimed, slug pass your brain
  Reminisce on dames whose coochie used to stink
  When we rocked house pieces and puffy Gucci links
  Now we buy homes in unfamiliar places
  Tito smile every time he see our faces
  Cases catch more than outfielders
  Half these rappin cats aint seen war
  Couldnt score if they had point game, they lame
  Speak my name, I make em Dash like Dame
  I love the dough, more than you know 
  Gotta let it show, I love the dough, hey
  I love the dough, more than you know 
  Gotta let it show, I love the dough, hey
  I love the dough, more than you know 
  Gotta let it show, I love the dough, hey
  I love the dough, more than you know
  Gotta let it show, I love the dough, hey