There´s alot of money over here
(Hahahahahaha) Ha Ha
Unh (unh unh unh) Thats word to Brooklyn
I´m back I don´t know what the fuck is wrong with these niggas

[Verse 1]
Maybe cause I´m eatin And these bastards fiend for my grub
I carry pumps like I serve gasoline to these scrubs
Have you seen my Aston leanin on dubs
And they can´t afford chrome so they puttin vasoline on they hubs
I´m lookin for a girl with a ass like Trina to rub
Take home and let her watch the plasma screen in the tub
These niggas hate I´m movin so much cash and cream in the club
And dont pass my green on my bub
But I´m a fly nigga that don´t do much to pull her and dick her

Everyday I´m poppin a tab and pullin a sticker
Everyday I´m switchin the tags and pullin up sicker
Every "K" I´m loadin the mags with bullets to flicker
And I aint hesitatin homie I´m pullin it quicker
So you can act tough After a few pulls on some liquor
Got em pullin on niggas
And they won´t be goin nowhere for a while
They might as well pull out a snicker Ye-Ye-Yea

[Chorus]
Forgive me father for I have sinned
But look at all this money that I spend
And look at all this jewlery that I´m in
And look at all the places that I´ve been
And look at all the women in those brims

Look at the blue flames that I´m in
I look at all the bullshit that theres been
And if I had another chance I´d do it again

[Verse 2]
Anywhere the kid move you know the hammers´ll be with me
Pokin out the shirt like a Pamela Lee titty
I went on tour brought the samples of D wit me
Came back a month later bought a Lambo for three-fifty
Think I throw you grams if you read with me
Just because you see me on the camera with P. Diddy
Dammit we P-driddy?? Now I got G with me
Along with the third leg that I be rammin in these bitties
I keep the revolver you hope my gun´ll jam

But with the soap its gonna blam
The info put freckles on your face like Opie Cunningham
Thats why I´m watched by the Feds and scoped by Uncle Sam
Dope and hunn-ed (hundred) grams rope and hunn-ed grams
At the same time our artist get to open Summer Jam
Hope you understand or use better sense
These niggas dont want no beef they want lawsuit settlements Nigga!

[Chorus]

[Verse 3]
I´m in a waggy with em passin by ya
With a baby girl who suck harder than Maggie on a pacifier

What I´m smokin´ll have you aggie as your last supplier
When you can smell it through the bag you know that´s some fire
Gettin stressed by these hotties is regular
I got a magazine to press to your body like editors
Test me somebody I´m beggin ya
I got the gatling gun like Jesse The Body in Predator
I´m a hustler I dont sling no rocks to the fiends now
Got dudes who sit on corners like a boxer between rounds
Any other dude who dish rocks want beef
Cause I chop jobs bigger than Chris Rock front teef
I´m the nigga tearin the walls up in your miss in exchange for a small cup

of the Cris
And while you at probation fillin a small cup full of piss
I´m in a coupe with a roof that ball up like a fist (Catch up!)

[Chorus]

Thats right I´ll do it again nigga (unh yea)
I´m a motherfuckin ghetto superstar nigga (unh)
Desert Storm Street Family (unh) we here (yea)
Young G´s Salute (yea)
Get this fuckin money man
It´s alot of fuckin money over here (yea)
I don´t know what the fuck you doin (unh unh yea)