Lyrics
[Chorus] x2
money on my mind, on my mind is the stack,
movin' out and growin' up, never goin' back,
no givin' a fuck, pucker up, kiss my ass,
whatever it takes I'm-a break threw the glass
---
[Verse 1]
I hear alot of gossip get your lips closed,
or you better run for cover when the wicks low,
and I never mis-spoke, that's why they misquote,
got in dirt but cleaned that slate with dish soap
now dollars, I gotta fist foal, and you a sub,
the louder I turn it up I can tell your shit blows,
nose, high, either snobby or snorted coke,
I'll be a legend "no matter what" even Orbit knows,
so Mormons hope I don't become a God emcee,
'cause I hang with normal people and common thieves,
not a 2Pac-to-be, hide under rock and sleep,
Me, I got to be, no Mobb Deep but a Prodigy,
not a nominee and I wanna standin' ovation,
cause I make hits but won't get to bat in rotation,
that's a con to me, but fuck it if lames hate,
'cause even if they do, I can make their brain wave
---
[Chorus] x2
money on my mind, on my mind is the stack,
movin' out and growin' up, never goin' back,
no givin' a fuck, pucker up, kiss my ass,
whatever it takes I'm-a break threw the glass
---
[Verse 2]
My attitude is pissy, get the cathider,
'cause all my life my ride's been missin' the passanger,
I get the best of myself, never out-rapped in verse,
that'd be like driving in line tryna pass a hurse,
I gotta massive thirst witta hunger for more,
makin' a point in this game, you can cover the score,
but I'll stay on record like a mic under the drawer,
hear me knockin'? I'm at the door like ya butter is stored,
more force than a couple of corks when Eve pasts,
mic by a monitor's the only way ya get feedback,
please tacks, ya'll stuck up, give me ya lunch money,
run from me, I'm gettin' more beats than Doug Funnie,
lyrics is sick, I don't even have a pulse,
and won't cough it up even if you grabbed my balls,
so they say I'm a small wallet, I don't fit the bill,
that's when I break threw the glass and I lift the till
still...
---
[Chorus] x2
money on my mind, on my mind is the stack,
movin' out and growin' up, never goin' back,
no givin' a fuck, pucker up, kiss my ass,
whatever it takes I'm-a break threw the glass
---
[Verse 3]
movin' on out... to make it, I'm losin' the doubt,
creatin' interest like cash accrued in account,
whether it's from rappin' or poppin' the blue collar,
I'm-a baller, hard to break me like the 2 dollar,
adversaries wack, collapse like a weak chair,
and they act like they're harder than a green pair,
still ya'll kinda ill but the cold in your chest left,
and I'm so damn ill, I sleep on my death bed,
ya'll like flies, tryna get a buzz and take risks,
but ya Ruth-less, means you don't make hits,
change your brain chip, ya'll just plain retarded,
and your music could be used as a flame retardent,
heated and garnished soon as Trace began
to make it, I aim for the stars like crazy fans,
and stay true to myself while ya lack the function,
that's why they try writin' me off like a tax deduction
creatin' conversation like drunks in rest rooms,
and ya'll shit is stallin'... Jet Blue
upsets you, I shine like dress shoes, kept new,
less views, still drop like a table legs loose,
before it's glass I break, I'll do whatever it takes,
damn, sounds like a slut tryna pass a grade,
scratch that sayin still you can't mask the face,
I'll Slipknots outta state before my caskets laid
---
[Chorus] x2
money on my mind, on my mind is the stack,
movin' out and growin' up, never goin' back,
no givin' a fuck, pucker up, kiss my ass,
whatever it takes I'm-a break threw the glass
---
