Yo wassup wassup?
Holla the playa dough.
Rappin' 4 Tay for the hard way for 1997 y'all listen for that.
And I'm about to blaze one up for the West Coast Bad Boyz.
Y'all keep on stackin' your paper man stack it up.
Invest it man that's real.
Verse 1:
Much love to all my folks with rap songs
And even the perpetrators who really don't belong.
It's become an epidemic better yet a disease
From boys to overnight MC's.
But there's enough legal tender for us to all get paid.
Be like special ed, talkin' 'bout you got it made?
Six G's a night, few more G's for flights.
You ain't trippin', they got your name up in the spotlight.
You gots to know how to hold 'em and fold 'em, hustle with these rhymes.
Show the world a hit each and every time.
And videos ain't never been a problem, see me all up in 'em.
Frisco, Cali livin' lavvy with the finest women.
My interstate pulled up to a homicide.
I'm never satisfied unless the dance floor's occupied.
Carrer-wise, I'm out here rockin' the nation.
It's all about results and risin' to the occasion.
(chorus)
Gold or platinum, a G look splendid.
Whatever happened to the paper, did you spend it?
Investments'll turn your bread around,
And baby, he knows what goes up must come down.
Big ballin' got the whole town sewed up.
Until the six wit the liquor got him towed up.
Investments'll turn your bread around,
And baby, he knows what goes up must come down.
Verse 2:
The 49ers do more diggin' than gold diggas
And man them playas out in Cali, them some cold niggas.
Full speed ahead, the West be comin' through
