[Intro: echoing dialogue between Big Pun and (someone)]
Mad stressed
(Yo, just chill bro, chill man)
Nah, nah, I gotta get this money
(Yo, chill you got everything going for you, man)
I ain't got nothing, right now, man
(Niggas calling you and all that, man)
Nah, that shit was down
('Bout to blow soon, you know?)
Niggas ain't for real, kid. That's a dream, kid. This is reality. This is reality. This is the real world. Nah I gotta get this fucking money, kid. Word up. Fuck that, nah, fuck that
(Whatever, man)
[Verse 1]
I got the sweetest heist, million in cash, another three in ice
Who can I trust? Cuban'll bust plus get beef tonight
Here's the plan (plan), we nab the man, bring a camcorder
Grab his fam, and run the train on his granddaughter
"Nah, chill, that's too ill, for real, I'd rather kill somethin'
Here's the deal, we shatter his grill, and drill fuck him
Oral torture, no doubt, the shit is holocaust
In two minutes tops, he's guaranteed to cop and give up all the morsels"
It's settled, better put on your metal, foot on the pedal
We got a half hour before the plan sours like Amaretto
Far from the ghetto, a rebel of chance, the devil in pants
Out for the fast cash, level advance
Takin' a chance, I've only got one, my hundred shot
Tommy shotguns my judge, jury and Johnny Cochran
Mad stressed
(Yo, just chill bro, chill man)
Nah, nah, I gotta get this money
(Yo, chill you got everything going for you, man)
I ain't got nothing, right now, man
(Niggas calling you and all that, man)
Nah, that shit was down
('Bout to blow soon, you know?)
Niggas ain't for real, kid. That's a dream, kid. This is reality. This is reality. This is the real world. Nah I gotta get this fucking money, kid. Word up. Fuck that, nah, fuck that
(Whatever, man)
[Verse 1]
I got the sweetest heist, million in cash, another three in ice
Who can I trust? Cuban'll bust plus get beef tonight
Here's the plan (plan), we nab the man, bring a camcorder
Grab his fam, and run the train on his granddaughter
"Nah, chill, that's too ill, for real, I'd rather kill somethin'
Here's the deal, we shatter his grill, and drill fuck him
Oral torture, no doubt, the shit is holocaust
In two minutes tops, he's guaranteed to cop and give up all the morsels"
It's settled, better put on your metal, foot on the pedal
We got a half hour before the plan sours like Amaretto
Far from the ghetto, a rebel of chance, the devil in pants
Out for the fast cash, level advance
Takin' a chance, I've only got one, my hundred shot
Tommy shotguns my judge, jury and Johnny Cochran
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