Lyrics

Three for the money, two for the hustle and one for the Nighttime spread over the city like a comforter Prime time for the predators who come to hunt for the chumps Carryin' them high note like a trumpeter They shoot as strength as arrows and run through the shadows As sons of a gun or dirty young caballeros With marks on they collars where they hung from the gallows Their lust for the dollars keep 'em red like the tarots Makin' fiends, influencin' people, Dale Carnеgies With big dreams to get rich quick that fail horribly Now thеy play the avenue of Amsterdam With other pickpockets and thieves and gambling mans And they just come at all the noodles where resistance is futile Business as usual to blow out your wig like French Poodles Never-endin' pursuit of the American dream Winner takes everything is still a regular theme, listen Ayo, one for the will of man, two for the kilogram Three for the cold killer who can still be a millionaire Fillin' the Frigidaire, big plates and silverware Where everybody eat except the one who was ill-prepared Due to circumstances, there's no more chances We was raised by wolves, grizzly bears, and panthers It's wild, yo, I'm surprised we ain't grown no antlers The whole house is fucked like Jo Jo Dancers It's hopeless to drift into a deep psychosis Do the most for just another bleak prognosis Out of respect for the dead, the names is changed When whoopie pie lit in his wig, his aim was flames If one thing them young boys not playin' his games Now that'll teach an old-timer how to stay in his lane I guess the moral of the story is Any sip you pour me is a toast to the warriors Who bit the dust before me, kid Be grateful
Writer(s): Tarik Trotter, Nick Movshon, Homer Steinweiss, Rexton Gordon, Greville Gordon, Wycliff Johnson, Cleveland Browne, Paul Spring, Leon Michels Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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