Cash:
It be the God Magnetic no time for mic checks
You know the s-t when the Green's on the set
This suck this respect respect
Step up in the kitchen get fried like fritters
Green sound be the best thing since a babysitter
The fam formulate like Morgan-Stan-Dean-Witter
Yo Mos, stop playing with me man, drop that...
Sit back and take a pull but take the tape off pause
We bout to take you to the green so why don't you hop aboard
Thoughts collide make heads bob like something delicious
Don't even blink for a sec cause we'll catch you sleeping
Cash:
Stressed out, stopped hanging out with them cats on the corner
Now they got me staked out, checking out the cars I hop out
Lexus, the Cherokee, fresh fades occupy the dome piece
The leather seat exceals the coushion in the rental I'm pushing
And like the club maybe one day lock this rap shit down
But for now I drink cheap beers, the St. Ides
A dollar fifty nine for free, I write rhymes to leviate the hard times
And do what I'm best at
To hear my voice on a track is like a treat
Even though you're not supposed to
Late night eating me like a Kit-Kat
My sugar words put bumps on your face
While brothers' first album be the raw shit
And the second one be laced with bullshit
But watch me this understanding see
Who like to snatch shows and ice skate(?), it must be
The currency they ascertain that makes them forget
About the times when they were broke and used to feel pain
The back of my Tims-
Is run-down like criminals names on computers in the precinct
Ain't no white man on the street innocent
Though it's my duty to teach civilization from Hatians
To Jamaicans to cavemen down to children
To them brothers out there on the corner scheming
We got the dap too, where we living we ain't leaving
It be the God Magnetic no time for mic checks
You know the s-t when the Green's on the set
This suck this respect respect
Step up in the kitchen get fried like fritters
Green sound be the best thing since a babysitter
The fam formulate like Morgan-Stan-Dean-Witter
Yo Mos, stop playing with me man, drop that...
Sit back and take a pull but take the tape off pause
We bout to take you to the green so why don't you hop aboard
Thoughts collide make heads bob like something delicious
Don't even blink for a sec cause we'll catch you sleeping
Cash:
Stressed out, stopped hanging out with them cats on the corner
Now they got me staked out, checking out the cars I hop out
Lexus, the Cherokee, fresh fades occupy the dome piece
The leather seat exceals the coushion in the rental I'm pushing
And like the club maybe one day lock this rap shit down
But for now I drink cheap beers, the St. Ides
A dollar fifty nine for free, I write rhymes to leviate the hard times
And do what I'm best at
To hear my voice on a track is like a treat
Even though you're not supposed to
Late night eating me like a Kit-Kat
My sugar words put bumps on your face
While brothers' first album be the raw shit
And the second one be laced with bullshit
But watch me this understanding see
Who like to snatch shows and ice skate(?), it must be
The currency they ascertain that makes them forget
About the times when they were broke and used to feel pain
The back of my Tims-
Is run-down like criminals names on computers in the precinct
Ain't no white man on the street innocent
Though it's my duty to teach civilization from Hatians
To Jamaicans to cavemen down to children
To them brothers out there on the corner scheming
We got the dap too, where we living we ain't leaving
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