Fes Taylor - M.C.M. (Making Cash Money) Lyrics
f/ House Gang, L.I.S., S.I.C.[Intro: Answering Machine Message]Recording: Tuesday, 12:48 PMGil: Profes, it's Gil, holla back, peace...[sample]"Dollars taken in..."[Intro: Fes Taylor]Yeah let's get this money man (Alright)Let's get this paper and shit, you know?Alright... that's what it's about...(Are we out for this money?)Aiyo... aiyo... aiyo aiyo...[Fes Taylor]*****, I need a Tahoe, not a tacoBut gimme lot's of nachoes, cheese on top yoBracelets and chains, so you know I'ma cop thoseLeave a nigga drippin' like a kid with a snotnoseI ain't never wore Paco or VoscoBut I had pairs of used jeans and lottosYou get burnt, I could heat the mic with a hot flowWait ya turn, reason why they hatin' - I got doughI ain't mad, son, I could relate, y'all dead brokeI've been there, gettin' money, sellin' crackheads smokeYou've spent too much time stressin' the next manKeep money in right, a gun in my left handI hop out the Range like "God damn!"When he gon' stop, man? I own businesses plus I got landWinter time, *****es lookin' like "How he got a tan?"I was smokin' on Maui, chillin' on the Cali sand[D.C.]When the Mack pop you'd be hard to find like 'PacOr crack rocks dropped in front of crackheads in crackspotsAnd Cash hot, boil like the water in crackpotsOr spoiled from these spoils that I saw through these back blocksAnd fiends that was loyal to crackspotsThem leaned on my beeper the way my jeans leans on my sneakersThe way my team lean on them heatersYou would think they was crutches and crack, you would think niggaz wasDutchesAnd clap niggaz just for thinkin' we frontin'What you thinkin' I'm bluffin'?I knock ya top off, I'm like the block wolfYou be thinkin' of nothin' while I'm laid back drinkin' and puffin'I slap *****es you be thinkin' of cuffin'Cash trigger finger itchy as *****in'I've be waitin' for a nigga to bluff himSo I could toast every nook and cranny on his punk ass like an English muffin[La Banga]It's like, it's like... we ain't bluffin... so yo...We gotta take it to make it, niggaz want us to failSeparate us from the frail, same shit, different taleMotion picture shit, Black Star Power, we keep it realGully in it's purest form, we form in the fieldGet it on at will, when carryin' vest, we carryin' stealA thug once told me, "A slug don't kill"Mind over matter will at the sight of their blood spillIntesity build, a lot fail in thier own inequitySlug humidity increase the body degreeHad a lot of niggaz coppin' a plea like rich niggaz coppin' a ki'The things I'm tellin' you was shown to meEconomical poetry, rap chemistryCreatin' miracles, right before the ***** eye visualLike Christ in the days of biblicalA simple touched healed the cripple[Carlton Fisk]Heal the cripple, nigga...***** y'all niggaz talkin' 'bout?Yo, let's get this money, just keep it realBut y'all niggaz talkin' slick, let's beef for realYou a faggot life nigga, you just caught a breakI'm the robbery suspect known to tuck the eighthPistol-whip you in ya face, make you crack ya safeLet you front all you want on CD's and mixtapesHouse gang motha*****a and we earned our nameGettin' close range on niggaz and, burn their frameLearn the game, double wagin' out of ya dameGave her a gram, fair exchange, head in ya RangeCurly-head nigga, Icebergs, sweats and a chainBeef and broccoli, three quarter, General's DaughterI'm out of order, my lifestyle's a crime reporterNot the actor but the auther, original clever terrorRock a black leather duckin' police, blast Berettas, nigga...[S.I.C.]Yo, yo...I rolls dolo from state to state, scrape platesSet up gates, holla "I know how to make a dollar circulate"How to get it, stretch it and flip itBag it and pitch it, stash it and stack it, invest it in businessListen, if ya money is funny then get seriousNigga, we get bread like I don't know what year it isPush Caddy's greater than grand daddy'sEverywhere I go all these chicks stare at meLike my *****es black as *****, ***** hair nappyContent, but ain't nowhere near happy'Til I'm where I wanna be, multi-billion dollar companyI doubt y'all niggaz wanna see another me[L.I.S.]I'm in it to ben-e-fit the pock-etsI gotta cop a rocket, get my name known on some stock shitIf I can't profit, might as well ***** and pop itI need that cash, ***** that motha*****in' pop shotI got no options, too many mouths to feedAnd a chunky-ass ***** that loves shoppin' spreesGot broads clockin' me for slingin' ***** for feesI live in dicktropolis, playin' *****nopolyI dig cash in green houses and red buildingsAnd everywhere that I go I'm never known as the villainMake a record, break a million, masturbations of the killin'You fakes get out my face, you disgracin' my childrenBust shots and make you feel 'em, have you dancin' from the spiritLike tracks engineered by Stevie Wonder on some hear shitDon't compare us to the rarest of barbaric beat bastardsI'm still a hatchet man and for that cash I'ma thrash ya[sample]"Don't you care to hear it... dollars, dollars, dollars..."
